#okay so I feel like I need to keep the cape but | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lesservillain · 4 months

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v. i want to hold the hand inside you

summary: a collection of moments through the holiday season. also a little bit of insight into eddie's pov. cw: smut (not with eddie), male masturbation, sexual fantasies, two idiots in love trope, eddie's mental anguish a/n: hi i'm back. missed you all and this series. hope it lives up to the hype. around 12.5k words. please continue reading after the fic for an important message regarding this series.

Shuffling down the stairs, you're greeted by the smell of coffee brewing and bacon frying in the kitchen. The grumbling in your stomach reminds you that you’d eaten way too much candy the night before, and that real food was much needed if you were going to get through the day.

When you rounded the corner into the kitchen, you were expecting to be greeted by the master chef Charles at the stove. But instead you were greeted by Tonya’s beautiful, slightly confused face. With a rag slung over her shoulder and spatula in hand, you watched her attempt to flip what looked like a very, very fried egg.

“You need some help?” You ask. Tonya jumps, hand on her chest as she catches herself. Clearly she had been in the zone, focused on the task at hand. Although, that didn't seem to keep help her in her food making endeavors.

“Jesus, can you be a little louder when you walk in the room next time?”

“Sorry Tonnie,” you laugh, moving around her to get a drink from the fridge. “Been working on walking around as quiet as possible so I don’t wake Ed—everyone up when I’m working.”

Tonya's whole demeanor suddenly shifts. After plating the eggs and setting them aside, she turns her whole body to face you. Your eyes go wide as she takes the stance you know so well; the one she takes before she’s about to lecture you.

“While you’re working?” She asks, an eyebrow quirked in a suspicious fashion.

“Y-yeah…" you respond, not liking the way she starts to slowly saunter towards you. "Okay, can we skip the games, please? What’s wrong?”

“Why was there a red cape in your car last night?”

You feel like the room is going to spin. Not wanting to fuss with it you had thrown the costume cape in the back seat when you left Eddie’s last night. By the time you got all of your overthinking in, you’d completely forgotten to grab it and bring it inside.

“Wha—I, uh—”

Tonya says your name to cut off your babbling.

“If you wanted to go out and spend Halloween with Sam you could have just told me that.”

“What? Oh, god no.” Your nose scrunches in offense at the mere suggestion until you remember that it’s probably normal to want to spend time with the guy you’re dating. “I mean…I didn’t spend Halloween with Sam.”

“Okaaaay?” She draws the word out, head bobbing as she waits for you to explain yourself. You breath in, looking at her carefully before exhaling with a sigh.

“Promise me you will listen to what I have to say before coming to any conclusions.”

Tonya says your name with a serious tone. You can see the anger starting to brew in her, and you can only hope that once you tell her everything that’s been going on for the last two months that she’ll understand. The need to rip the band aide off was becoming more apparent, especially when you needed her guidance on some of the thinking you had done.

“Promise me?” You say again, not backing down.

“Ugh, fine.” She walks over to the table and sits down, motioning for you to take the seat across from her.

“So, I think the first thing I need to clear up is that…I don’t actually have a night job. At least, not in the sense that I’m getting paid. It’s a volunteering position.”

You watch the way her mouth tightens, nostrils flaring as she expresses all her unspoken words with her face. But, she doesn’t say anything so you keep going.

“It’s something that I signed up for at the very beginning of the semester. Granted, it wasn’t supposed to be an overnight thing...but the person I’m taking care of needed overnight care and I just—I couldn’t say no, Tonnie.”

Air blows out between her lips like steam, and you can tell you need to get the rest of the information out to her before she can’t hold it in anymore.

“The reason why I even hid any of this from you is because the person I’ve been taking care of was turned down by everyone else at sign ups…because he was a murder suspect.”

“Oh, no. No, no, no.” Her hands wave in front of her and she shakes her head. “I’m really hoping that I did not hear you right. Because there’s no way you’re telling me that, you, of ALL PEOPLE, have been spending the last two months babysitting a MURDERER?!”

“He didn’t actually murder anyone!” You shout back. Tonya’s eyes roll as she throws her hands up dramatically.

“What does that even mean?!”

“Eddie was accused of murder, but he didn’t actually do it!”

“Eddie?! Eddie who?!”

“His name is Eddie Munson,” you say, “he was actually framed by the real murderer. The guy tortured him, Tonya! His…his body is covered in scars and…and he ended up loosing his leg. Like, from the knee down. And he was so sick when I got there. He’s come such a long way since then…”

Tonya’s face is like stone, blinking slowly as you go on about Eddie and all the things you’ve helped him accomplish in the last two months. You hadn’t even realized that you’d been rambling until the sound of her bedroom door caught your attention.

“Charles is here?” You ask her quietly after the bathroom door closes. You're shocked when she confirms that he had stayed the night. He'd never stayed the night before, at least while you were there.

“We had a fun night,” Tonya says with a sly smirk. “He’s probably feeling it this morning.”

“Ah, I see,” you nod. The sound of retching coming from the upstairs bathroom had the two of you giggling. Tonya leans in towards you, resting her chin on her hands as she looks at you.

“So,” she starts, “Can I ask you a side question before we get into this Eddie guy?”

“Sure,” you say suspiciously.

“Is Sam real?”

“What?” You chuckle. “Yeah, he’s real. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t a lie you made up to go see your little criminal boyfriend.”

You reel back, shocked by the accusations of her statement.

“Eddie’s not my boyfriend,” you assure her. But the look on her face tells you she’s not buying it.

“Really? Because you just talked more about this guy in the last 20 minutes than you’ve talked about Sam since you two started dating.”

“Well…I spend five days a week with him, so of course I have more to say about Eddie than Sam. But…”

“But…?”

“What bit you in the ass this mornin’?”

Eddie stirs his coco wheat's mindlessly as the Andy Griffith’s Show plays on the TV. If you were to ask Wayne, he’d say Eddie was acting like a cat after it got caught in the rain, all pissy and ready to swat and anyone who looked at him.

“Nothin’,” Eddie grumbles, not bothering to look at his uncle as he spoke. Wayne sighed, grabbing the TV remote and turning it off. He shifts forward on the couch cushion until he was sitting on the edge.

“Did somethin’ happen at the Trick r Treat thing?”

Eddie exhaled, slumping back in the recliner dramatically before finally facing his uncle.

“Nothing happened. I just—Did you know she has a boyfriend?”

Wayne’s head tilts to the side. “What? No she don’t? Told me when she started.”

“Well, she must have lied to you because she told Harrington last night that she was seeing some guy named Sam from her school.” Eddie’s arms cross over his chest like a child with an attitude.

“Why’d she tell him that?”

“Because, in typical Harrington fashion, the guy flirts with any girl that crosses his path.”

“So she told him she had a boyfriend?”

“Yep.”

“Maybe she was lyin’ t’em.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. He hadn’t thought about that. He just assumed you hadn’t told him because you knew he liked you by now and didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

“But what if she’s not?” Eddie’s voice is soft in his vulnerability. He’d told Wayne about his growing feelings for you about a month ago. About how he thought you were beautiful from the first time he’d seen you, but he’d stuffed those feeling down immediately.

He tried his best to push you away, hoping that you’d run with your tail between your legs after how rude he’d been to you. But you didn’t seem to budge, so he tried to ignore you instead. That obviously didn’t work out either. His hopes went up when you saw him on the floor that faithful night. He thought that you’d be so repulsed by him that you’d turn and run on the spot.

But, of course you didn’t.

You looked at him as if he wasn’t a broken man who’d been beaten and almost eaten alive by supernatural bats. Who’d been abused and almost murdered by hospital staff who were supposed to be in charge of his life. Who was sent home to a place he didn’t know, with barely anything to his name after the Upside Down swallowed his trailer whole.

In hindsight, he almost wishes you had ran. Because this feeling that he’s had every day since has been more painful than any of his scars or shredded limbs. He wishes you had been shallow and vapid, because he would have a reason to hate you, rather than feel lonely whenever you weren’t around.

And maybe he’d feel less bad about the times he’s touched himself while thinking about how your body presses against his when you help move him to his chair. Or the way your chest brushes against his shoulder when you’ve put your arms around him while you watch their DnD games.

Shit, he’d only agreed to do physical therapy in the first place because you’d leaned in front of him and practically begged him. Did you know that he could almost see perfectly down your shirt when you did that? He was glad he did it, though, because the strength that’s slowly being restored to his hands was making it easier to jerk off to the thought of you.

Eddie tried to pushed those thoughts back. He didn’t want to feel that way about you. Well, not in this gross, perverted way at least. You didn’t deserve that.

“If’n she’s not lyin’, then…well…” Wayne settles into a silence. Eddie feels himself getting upset, head titling back to push the impending tears away before they could spill over.

It wasn’t fair for him to feel this way. He wouldn’t have had a chance with you even before everything that happened to him, so why was he getting all worked up as if you’d ever seen him as anything other than a pitiful shell of the man he used to be. No matter how much you poured into him, he would never have enough to return the favor.

Eddie had been distant the last few weeks. Not back to his grumpy self, but more closed off than he had been with you lately. Any time you touched him unprompted, he would pull away or make an excuse to move away from you. He still talked with you, but that teasing banter that he would throw your way was few and far between.

It hurt to feel like you were being locked out again, but you didn’t question it. Eddie didn’t owe you any explanations anyway. But you still couldn’t help to over analyze his behaviors every night before falling asleep.

Even now as you sit with him and Wayne and sort through old pictures that Wayne had found after going through their storage unit. Wayne is doing most of the talking, with Eddie chiming in here and there to give short interjections.

“Eddie, you’re joking,” you gasp.

It was just a shoebox, but it was filled to the brim with pictures of Eddie when he was little. The picture in question that you were absolutely gushing over was of Eddie and a woman that you’d assumed to be his mom by their matching chocolate button eyes. Her hair was wild like Eddie’s; long red curls teased to high heaven that framed her delicate face. Toddler Eddie was on her hip in a Christmas themed outfit, a huge, baby toothed grin plastered on his face as beamed at his mother. The back of the picture read ‘Eddie & Flo Christmas ‘68.’

“I’m not,” he says with little enthusiasm. “Unfortunately, I look just like my dad, besides my eyes. Wish I looked more like her, though.”

“No, look,” you say, pointing at his moms smile. “You have her smile, too. Dimples and all.”

“Hold on,” Eddie says, taking the box and sifting through the pictures. It took him a few minutes to finally pull out a picture before handing it to you.

What you weren’t prepared to see was a picture of a man who looked practically identical to Eddie, sans the long hair and clad in a military uniform. Next to him was a younger Wayne Munson, dressed in a leather jacket and with a much fuller head of hair. You studied the picture a bit before flipping it over.

‘Allan and Wayne April 1970 Day of Departure’

“Your dad was in Vietnam?” You ask, looking at the picture again, still mesmerized at the resemblance.

“Yeah, he got drafted and shipped out a month before my 5th birthday,” Eddie said with indifference.

“I thought you could be excused from the draft if you were married with kids?”

“Al and Flo weren’t married,” Wayne interjected. “And Al was dead set Eddie wasn’t his so he didn’t even show up to his birth. I’s there, though, cause I knew Flo wasn’t like those other girls he was chasin’ after. And when I tell you I wanted nothin more's to kick my brother’s ass as soon as I saw that little face for the first time.”

Wayne grabs the box from the coffee table and shuffles around it a bit until he found a picture. He looks at it for a moment before handing it to you. “Poor Flo did all that time cookin’ that one there for him to come out lookin’ exactly like his daddy.”

The picture was of Eddie’s mother in her hospital bed, wild red hair tied up and looking exhausted. But her smile was wild, and she was flashing a peace sign at the camera. An even younger Wayne was holding a bundled up new born Eddie proudly in his arms, holding him up in a way that shows off Eddie’s chubby baby face. He really did look like his dad, the Munson genes definitely being more dominant.

You flip the picture over to read the back.

‘Florence, Wayne, and Edward May 13th, 1965.’

Wayne fished out more pictures of Eddie as a baby, and you cooed over every single one, much to Eddie’s dismay. Through this you discovered Eddie’s middle name was James after his late grandfather that passed on the strong Munson genes to his father.

You couldn’t help but feel bad for Eddie’s mother, though. She was only 17 when she had Eddie, and her strict parents kicked her out because of it. Thankfully, Eddie’s grandparents took her in and Al apparently came around and stepped up when he held Eddie for the first time.

They stayed living all together until Al was drafted. But not long after, Eddie’s mom got really sick. She had been hiding it, hoping that it would go away on it’s own, until it had suddenly gotten worse. Wayne moved back home to help raise Eddie when his mother started getting sick. She died in 1971, a week before Al was set to come home from Vietnam.

“That’s when he started gettin’ in trouble. Flo had whipped him into shape in a way not even the military could accomplish. And when she was gone before he could say goodbye—”

“Can I go outside?” Eddie’s hand wipes over his eyes harshly. He scoots to the edge of the chair and reaches out for his wheelchair. You jump up at his request, getting his chair situated for him before helping him into it. He clung to you for a moment longer than he normally would, but you didn’t mind.

“Let me get your coat,” Wayne says, pushing off the couch. When he’s just out of earshot, you look at Eddie, his eyes glassy and downcast as if deep in thought, and tap him on the shoulder.

“Hey, do you think that when you have kids they’ll be clones of you, too?”

Eddie’s posture straightens, his eyes wide when he meets yours.

“What? I, um, I don’t—” He clears his throat and shifts in his seat. “I haven’t really thought about it. Didn’t really plan on kids anyway.”

“Oh, really? I guess that’s understandable. Not everyone wants kids.”

“Do you?”

“Hmm, maybe one day,” you shrug. “Not really rushing to have one right now or anything. More focused on school and taking care of you.” Eddie smiles, but ducks his head to hide it from you.

“Well, I guess I’m good practice for taking care of one,” he says.

“No, you’re way harder to take care of.” He barks out a laugh, rolling away from you to meet Wayne half way to the door.

While the two of them go outside to smoke, you busy yourself in the kitchen putting away the Thanksgiving dinner you and Wayne had put together, with Eddie’s help on stirring duty. Ben had come by and ate with all of you, seemingly more comfortable being around while you were at the Munson’s residence with his more frequent visits.

It didn’t take you long to clean up. Wayne had apologized all morning for the dinner not being anything fancy, and you reassured him every time that you didn’t care. You’d been used to spending Thanksgiving with just your grandparents, and then just your grandma for so long that you’d never made much of a big deal out of the holiday like others do.

Sam specifically told you on multiple occasions about how everyone in his family makes a very big deal about holidays. Apparently they were also looking forward to meeting you, which came as a shock considering he hadn’t even asked you to go, he just assumed you would. When you told him it felt like it was way too soon to meet his family, he seemed bummed but thankfully didn’t press further.

“Damnit, I told ya she’d be in here cleanin’ up, Eds,” Wayne hollers from the living room.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it!”

“We’re gonna have to start paying her if she’s gonna start doing the maid’s job,” Eddie says, rolling into the kitchen and up to the fridge. He goes to grab for a beer, but you call for him, stopping him in his tracks.

“Eddie, if you have a beer this late you can’t take your pain meds.”

“That’s fine,” Eddie says, plucking the beer from the door and presenting it to you. “I wasn’t gonna take it tonight anyway.”

“What? Why?”

“Wanna try and get used to not having it.”

You want to argue with him, but he’s giving you that wet, sad look that he knows will get you to fold. And you do, snatching the beer from his hands and popping the tab open.

He holds his hand out to grab it from you, but you decide to fuck with him a bit and take a sip of it yourself. It tastes like nasty cheep beer, but you do your best to remain as neutral as possible, even letting out an “ahhh” after you swallow.

Eddie looks up at you with pure shock, frozen in place like he was petrified. It makes you laugh as you place the can back in his hand, waiting a moment for him to grab it before letting go.

“Y-you can have it if you want,” he stutters, not moving.

“It’s okay, Eddie, I was just messing with you,” you say, placing a hand on his shoulder as you walk past him out of the kitchen.

Eddie thrusts sloppily into his folded pillow, held together by his body weight as he lays on top of it. It took a lot of trial and error, but Eddie’s found this to be the most effective way for him to get off when his hands are too sore to just jerk off.

He didn’t mind it though, because this set up made it feel more real to him. He didn’t have any frame of reference to know what it felt like to fuck a real pussy, but the friction of his pillowcase felt good enough that he was able to bypass the texture if he just focused on the fantasies in his head.

All of them revolved around you, of course. He tries to stave off of giving into his urges. Especially considering he usually had to look you in the face at some point after. He felt like he was going to give himself some kind of pavlov response if he allowed himself to jerk off from any small domestic gesture that you threw his way.

Today was a bit too much for him, though. He’s happy you came over since he fully expected you to ditch him and Wayne for some other plans.

But you didn’t.

Not only did you come over, but you came over early, dressed up in an outfit that had Eddie fighting off a hard on from the moment you arrived. And basically acted as if you’d been part of the family for years rather than only knowing them for a few months. You were a natural addition to the Munson clan and that played on Eddie's mind a lot when he thought about you like this.

And when you took a sip of Eddie’s beer before giving it to him…Eddie was ashamed to even think about how much that affected him. Not only was it practically an indirect kiss, but he’d never seen you let loose like that, even if it was just a sip. You felt comfortable around him to blur that line of professionalism that you tried to keep up when you cared for him, and Eddie was letting the delusions run rampant.

“Haaa, fuck,” he whines into his other pillow as he ruts into the makeshift pussy that he desperately wishes was yours. He’s imagining you lying under him, his bare chest pressing into your back as he plows into you from behind. He thinks about how you’d be calling out his name. Are you vocal in bed, or would you be biting into his pillow like he is now to keep himself quiet?

Eddie pulls his shirt back up to his nose and your scent that rubbed off on it filled his nostrils, sending him over the edge. He cums suddenly with a low groan, spurts of white cum spilling in between the fold of the sandwiched pillow. His breath hitches, eyes going in and out of focus as he cums harder than he ever has before.

After catching his breath, Eddie pushes himself over and onto his back. He lays there, waiting for the guilt to creep in like it always does. He thinks back to your conversation earlier, about him wanting kids. It kills him.

Did you really think he would ever have the chance to have kids? Besides not knowing if his swimmers even work after what he went though, he would have to meet someone who would treat him with even a fraction of the kindness you give him. And then he’d have to convince them that he was worthy enough for their love and not a burden.

You saying you want kids one day hurt even worse. It was a feasible dream for you, to start a family with someone you loved. Eddie had barely thought about kids, but now he’s laying here thinking about what a normal life would be like with you. A house with a white picket fence, two kids, a dog…

Tears rolled down Eddie’s temples and disappeared into his sweaty hair line. He grabbed the soiled pillow and pulled off the pillowcase, carefully pulling it inside out and tossing it into his laundry basket. He pulled his comforter over himself to hide away from the world.

The bed shakes as Sam lands on his back next to you. He says…something, but you’re too busy in your own head to catch it. The ache between your legs tries to get your attention as well, but you would rather listen to Sam speak than address that right now.

“Hey, are you okay?” Sam’s hand waves in front of your face and you force yourself to smile when you look at him. “Did I really blow your mind that much?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” you nod enthusiastically, probably overdoing it. You feel an ick wash over you when he smiles triumphantly. He leans in to kiss you and you turn your head so that his lips hit your cheek.

“I’m gonna go get us some water. Feel free to use my bathroom to clean up.” You lay still until Sam leaves the room, holding your breath until you’re sure he’s gone.

Jumping up from the bed, you grab your clothes and quickly redress. You can’t find your tights but at this point you don’t even care, you just want to get out of there as fast as you can. Sam is standing in the hallway with a glass of water when you open the bedroom door. He looks at you up and down with confusion.

“You okay?” He asks.

“Yeah, I, uh…I forgot that I promised to help Tonya put up Christmas decorations tomorrow.” You move past him, but he grabs your arm to stop you.

“Do you have to leave right now?” He asks, a distressed look on his face.

“I’m sorry, but I probably should. Tonya likes to get up early to start the process and--”

“Okay, I understand,” Sam says, taking a deep breath in. “Can I, um, I want—I need to ask you something before you go.”

Your heart feels like it’s dropped into your stomach, nauseating you instantly. You have a sneaking suspicion that you know what he’s going to ask, but you really don’t think you can do this right now.

“Can we talk about it later? I think it’s supposed to start snowing soon,” you say, pulling your arm from his grasp. “Really want to get home before the roads get bad—”

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

The reaction your body had to his question was similar to one you would have if you heard nails on a chalkboard. If the ground opened up and swallowed you whole right now you’d be thankful for a quick escape from this situation.

You relaxed your body and looked at Sam. He’s a nice guy, truly, but after everything that transpired in his bedroom…

“Sam…”

“Yeah?” His puppy dog eyes are making this harder than you want it to be.

“I….” You sigh, “I need to think about it. I’m going through a lot with finals coming up and taking care of Ed—I mean, Mr. Munson--”

“But you’re almost done with both of those? Christmas break is just around the corner, and I really would like you to meet my family.”

“Wait, what do you mean I’m almost done?”

“Well, you’re finals are, like, a week and a half away. And next week is your last week for the volunteer program so you won’t be needing to go to Hawkins anymore. We called all the families and let them know so that they could make other arrangements a week or two ago.”

All the air around you felt like it was sucked away. Wayne didn’t tell you that he had gotten a call. Was he even going to bring it up? Did he just expect you to up and leave him and Eddie?

“Sam, I really need to go,” you say with a strained breath. You don’t give him much of a chance to answer before you’re grabbing your coat and heading out his front door. Snow was already starting to stick to the ground as you got to your car. Sam stood at his front door, still in his boxers as you got in your car and drove off.

Driving on autopilot, your brain began to recall and process exactly what happened while you were with Sam. He had been off putting ever since you saw him after Thanksgiving, but you almost felt bad for him. All this time you convinced yourself that this really attractive guy was giving you attention and you just we’re being grateful for it.

But today solidified for you that you couldn’t deny the way you were feeling anymore. Not when the whole time the two of you were having sex, you couldn’t get Eddie out of your head. Every touch, every thrust, you could only think about Eddie being the one on top of you making you feel good. You’re pretty sure you would have cum if it was actually Eddie.

The feelings you had for Eddie sat behind a glass wall inside your mind ever since you were able to pour your heart out to Tonya. But, no matter how much you wanted to, you knew you could never act on them. It would go against every code of conduct for you to have a romantic relationship with a patient. You could potentially get kicked out of nursing school if you were ever found out.

Not to mention you had no idea if Eddie would even accept your feelings. Sure, he has come out of his shell and let you into his life in more ways that you had imagined when you first met him. But, you didn’t want to delude yourself into thinking it was anything deeper than an appreciation for the care you’ve given him. Eddie and Wayne were good people, and you didn’t want to mistake that kindness for anything more than what it was.

But, fuck, did it suck to find out you might only have one more week to spend with them.

Between the thick snowflakes and the racing of your mind, you didn’t notice the way the road was getting icier as the snow continued to fall. A turn snuck up on you in the heavy snowfall and you slammed on the brakes to slow down, but your car continued to slide across the snowy road.

Your car fishhooks before the back end whips around, sending you spinning into a ditch. It’s not a deep one, but the lack of traction under your tire sends them spinning with barely any movement from your car. You curse under your breath, all of your emotions bubbling up until you smack your steering wheel out of frustration.

After taking a few minutes to cool off, you take a look around you to assess your surroundings. It’s hard to see much, the back road you’re on has no streetlights and you’re not sure if you’d be able to see any house lights even if you were in someone’s yard. You start to panic, unsure of what you’re next move should be. You don’t have enough gas to wait out the night, but you should still have an emergency blanket in your trunk.

You have to hype yourself up to leave your car, moving as fast as you could to the back. As you went to open the trunk, fumbling with your keys lead to dropping them in the white snow at your feet. Your eyes stung as your tears began to gather, the cold wind instantly chilling them.

Without a second thought, you let out a loud scream into the dark night sky. You felt around for your keys, the cold metal biting your already cold hands as you finally opened your trunk, only to find it empty. That’s when you remember that you had taken the blanket out of your trunk and thrown it in your back seat for the trunk r treat night.

The trunk of your car slams hard enough to make the car shake, and you practically rip the door off the hinge when you grab the blanket.

Just as you’re about to get back in your front seat whe a light comes into view from the down the road. Relief washes over you when you can see it’s a car coming your way. You jump up and down, waving your hands around to get the cars attention, the big truck rolling to a stop next to you.

“Are you okay, darlin’?” A little old woman’s voice calls from the rolled down window.

“No,” you yell with a pathetic sniffle. The driver side door of the truck opens and a little old man jumps out and rounds the front. He lets you inside and you slide into the bench seat between the two.

The couple apparently heard you scream from their house and came out to check what was going on. The snow was so thick you didn’t even realize their house was only a few hundred feet away from your car. The woman made you a hot drink as you used their phone to call for someone to pick you up.

“Hello?” Wayne’s gruff voice could have been intimidating to hear if it was anyone else calling the Munson house this time of night.

“Wayne, it’s me.”

You thank the older couple profusely for everything before bounding out to the truck waiting for you in their driveway. It had taken Wayne almost 45 minutes to get to you with all of the snow, but he promised he would get to you even if it took hours.

When you pulled open the passenger door, you were surprised to see Eddie sitting there with a worried look.

“Eddie, I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Boy was worried sick ‘bout’cha,” Wayne calls from the other side of Eddie.

“Wayne,” he groans, scooting over on the bench seat to make room for you.

“Aw, that was really sweet of you to be worried about me,” you tease, leaning your head on his shoulder to push his buttons a little bit more. Eddie adverts his gaze, mumbling a whatever under his breath making Wayne chuckle.

Wayne backs out of the driveway and starts the journey to Tonya’s. The conversation is light until Wayne asks what you were doing out so late at night during a snow storm.

“I was out with some of my classmates,” you lie, not wanting to bring up being with Sam. The thought of him only brought all of the thoughts you had earlier in the night to the forefront of your mind, and you were suddenly very aware of how much of your body was touching Eddie’s in this cramped seating arrangement.

The chill of the night had been cut by his natural body heat against you, making you subconsciously curled into him at some point during the drive. You went to pull away, but his body started to move with yours until he was leaning into you.

“Sorry,” he said, trying to adjust himself, “I usually lean against the door to keep my balance.”

“Oh my god, Eddie, I’m sorry,” you say, moving closer to him again. “I would have sat in the middle if I had known.”

“It’s okay,” he says quietly before you felt his body weight leaning against you again.

The small talk dwindled into a peaceful quiet as Wayne drove the country road with ease. The snow has started to ease up, almost completely stopped by the time you saw the city marker indicating you were close to being home.

As you were leaning into Eddie’s shoulder, you felt a bit of weight fall on top of your head, your vision slightly obstructed by curly brown hair that fell over your face. Eddie’s light snores next to your ear was all the confirmation you needed that he’d fallen asleep and was using you as a pillow.

A warm, bubbly feeling filled you at the sudden closeness. Even a small interaction like this made you feel a million times more exultant than you’ve ever felt with Sam. Or anyone for that matter.

“Wayne,” you called to the older man, wanting to distract yourself from your thoughts. He hummed in response, his hat covered head tilting slightly in your direction while his eyes remained on the snowy roads. “Tonight one of my…friends from class, they mentioned something about this week being the last week of our volunteer work.”

Wayne went rigid in his seat, shifting to sit upright again. He cleared his throat, visibly becoming more distraught with each passing second.

“Yeah, I guess that’s right, isn’t it? I, um…” Wayne ran a hand over his mouth, rubbing it back and forth against the stubble before it landed back on the steering wheel.

“’ve been-- been trying, ya know, to get someone to take over nights. I thought about askin’ Hop, but he’s done enough for us. Plus he’s got family now, so s’not fair to ask him. Could come off the nights, but that shift diff is really gettin’ us by.” Wayne nods his head to the side, “Ed says he can stay home by himself, but I just…I can’t have em fallin’ and not bein’ able to get emself up. Lord forbid he fall and break his hip er somethin’.”

“So…it sounds like you haven’t found anyone?”

Wayne sighs, shaking his head. “Well, that’s not…” He pauses, letting out a huff of air through his nose. “There is someone who is willing to come a couple nights a week if we need ‘em…”

“But?” You press, curious as to who this person might be.

“But…I’ll just say he’s not my first pick to take responsibility for anyone.”

“I see,” you say, looking down at where Eddie’s thigh is pressed against yours, the end of his jeans smoothed over the amputation spot where you’d sewn the end shut for him.

“Can I ask why you didn’t ask me if I could keep coming over?”

Wayne was still, like he was holding his breath.

“I, um, we…”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off. “I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. If you don’t want me to keep coming I totally understand--”

“No, no! That’s not it at all,” Wayne says defensively. “We both kinda assumed that you weren’t…allowed to.”

“Oh…well I don’t think there’s anything that says I couldn’t keep coming over? It’s not like I’m being paid, so I don’t think I’m violating any of my school’s rules. And he’s been doing so well, it wouldn’t be any different than if anyone else came over to stay with him.”

The truck was quiet for a moment, except for the directions you gave Wayne as he turned into Tonya’s neighborhood. Once he pulled into the empty driveway, he shift the old beater truck into park and turned to look at you. You must have been quite a sight sitting there with his nephew practically on top of you as he snoozed away. But you still smiled up at him, even as he shook his head at the two of you.

“So, I don’t want you to say yes just because I told you I was havin’ trouble. Okay? Promise me if you say yes that it’s not outta pity.”

“I promise,” you say, crossing your fingers for him to see.

“Alright, well, if it’s not gonna cause you any issue, would you be able to keep comin’ down to stay with Ed at night? It doesn’t have to be every day. Like I said, I got someone who said he can stay a night or two a week if we need ‘em—”

“Can I ask who it is you’re talking about?”

“It’s, uh, it’s a guy Ed went to school with. He’s a little older--names Rick—they’ve been friends since Eddie was a freshman—”

“Rick? Like Reefer Rick?” You question, Eddie’s weight on you being the only thing keeping you from jumping out of your seat.

“Well, yeah, that’s him. I guess Eddie must’ve talked bout him by now.”

“He hasn’t told me much about him. But, he did come over one day after you’d already left for work when the boys were over.”

“Ah, yeah, I forgot Eddie told me he came by,” Wayne nodded.

“I guess I understand why you don’t want him to be the one to stay over.”

“Yeah, he’s just…not a very responsible kid,” Wayne says with a shake of his head.

“That’s like…the nice way to put it, I suppose.”

Eddie suddenly lifts his head from your shoulder, his tired, confused eyes scanning his surroundings before looking at you. He smiles, breathing in harshly as he stretches, one arm going forward and the other behind you.

“Hi,” he breathes out, his voice groggy and low from just being asleep. It does that thing to you where it goes straight from your ears to between your legs.

“Hi Eddie,” you giggle, looking up at his dopey, half asleep still expression. Wayne clears his throat and Eddie’s whole body turns to look at him, then all around once more as if he’s only just noticing his surroundings for the first time.

“Where are we?” He asks with pinched brows.

“My house,” you say, taking that as your cue to grab your things and exit the vehicle.

“Shit, that was a quick drive,” Eddie says running a hand over his eyes.

“Quick only cause you used that poor girl like a mattress while you slept,” Wayne quips.

“I did? Damn, I’m sorry,” Eddie apologizes, his eyes wide as if panicked.

“Oh, I didn’t care,” you say as you opened the car door, the cold air hitting you straight to the bone and making you shiver. But even with the winter air trying to turn you into a popsicle, you still took your time getting out, not wanting to make Eddie lose his balance and fall.

Once Eddie was situated back in the passenger seat, you gave the two men your goodbyes, promising Wayne to finish the conversation when you come by on Monday.

The Munson men waited in the drive way to make sure you got inside okay, waving back to you as they took off down the road.

Every day for the next week felt like a rollercoaster.

Sunday consisted of Tonya taking you to get your car and you ignoring phone calls from Sam. You and Tonya also decorated the house together, so you technically didn’t lie to Sam when you left.

Monday you were almost late to class, doing your best to wait until the last second to pull into the schools parking lot so as to avoid Sam in case he was waiting for you. You felt bad for not giving him an answer before you left him on Saturday. But after an all day conversation with Tonya that started with telling her that you couldn’t get Eddie out of your head while you were having sex with Sam and ended with you guys talking about what colours you think Eddie would like if you ever got married one day, you figured you should probably cut things off with him.

You were never good at telling anyone no, this much you knew about yourself. And if you were completely honest, you were a little worried that if you didn’t wait until the right time that Sam might puppy dog eye you into changing your mind. But, you had to be strong. If you could just get through until next Wednesday after finals…

Speaking of finals. After some discussion with the Munson men, it was decided that you would keep coming to stay with Eddie over night until further notice. Both of them seemed to be relieved, although Eddie did say he wanted to keep working on building his strength so that Wayne would feel comfortable enough to let him be alone at some point in the future.

Once that was settled, you immediately made a deal with Eddie, making him your personal exam study buddy. Every day he quizzed you, went through flash cards with you, and looked over your homework for you, handing it back if he didn’t think the answer you gave matched what the textbook said.

“I feel like I could be a nurse after all of this,” Eddie said, placing the thick deck of flash cards down on the side table. The flipping between the cards had been serving as a good exercise for building up his hand dexterity, but often left them a little sore by the time you’d gone through all of them.

“I think I’d pay good money to see you in one of my school’s nursing uniforms,” you tease, standing up to refill his cup.

“Good money, huh? Like, maybe a college tuition’s worth?” He calls back from his chair. You bark out a laugh.

“You’d have to put that uniform to good use for me to shell out that kind of cash, if you know what I mean.” Eddie howls at your suggestive words.

“Don’t know how good of a dancer I’d be with only one leg, sweetheart!”

After a long week of studying, Friday finally rolled around and it was time to fulfill your part of the bargain.

With Eddie in the passenger seat, the two of you set off towards Castleton Square in Indianapolis. The roads were busy, full of people with the same idea as you and Eddie; last minute Christmas shopping.

You’d lied to Wayne about where you were going per Eddie’s request. He knew that if he told Wayne where he was going that he would try and give him money to buy his gifts.

But ever since his disability checks (finally) started coming in, Eddie had secretly been saving some on the side so that he could get some things for everyone for Christmas.

That included Wayne, and he wasn’t about to use the man’s own money to buy him a Christmas gift. So, as far as Wayne knew, the two of you were going to see Grant and his girlfriend's new apartment.

“Damn, this place is packed,” Eddie said, head on a swivel as you tried to navigate the mall’s parking lot without taking out a pedestrian.

“No kidding,” you say, pulling up towards one of the mall’s entrances.

“I’m gonna let you out here,” you say, flipping on your blinkers. Once Eddie is situated in his chair, you wait for him to wheel inside the first set of doors before taking off to park.

After 20 minutes of searching and briefly getting into it with a 70 year old over a handicap spot, you finally make your way to the mall entrance. It was just as crazy inside of the mall as you’d expected it to be with Christmas only a few more days away. People of all different background suddenly become unified by their arms being full of copious amounts of shopping bags.

Eddie sat just inside the doors, eyes flickering across his surroundings, as if anticipating something. But as you enter into the crowded mall, his anxiousness seems to melt away as soon as his gaze meets yours.

“You okay?” You ask, grabbing your purse from his lap.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, waving his hand at you. “I’m just…scoping the place out. For stores to shop in.” He saves himself at the last moment and you decide to let that excuse be enough for you.

To say the mall was pure chaos was an understatement. Many of the stores were restocking shelves at a record speeds, people fighting over toys and clothes and shoes that they HAD to have, lest little Tommy or Susie not get everything on their Christmas list. Every bench was filled to the brim with husbands and dads left in charge of bag duty while their wives wrack up their credit cards in the name of Christmas spirit.

Thankfully, no one wanted to be the person that's a dick to the guy in the wheelchair during the holiday season, so navigating the crowds was a little easier than you anticipated. The two of you bobbed and weaved through the stores, picking up a few things here and there for your respective friends and loved ones. Eddie was even brave enough to do a little shopping on his own while you ran to the bathroom.

Once the two of you regrouped, you took in Eddie’s haggard appearance and decided to call for a cookie break.

“Damn, what do they put in these things?” Eddie asks, his eyes closing as he takes another bite of his double chocolate cookie.

“I don’t know,” you say, sitting on the edge of a cement planter, not a single available seat in sight, “but whatever it is should probably be illegal. I could probably eat 10 of these things.”

“Mmm, agreed,” he says with a mouth full of cookie.

The two of you sit and enjoy your treats in silence. Not out of neglect for the other, but out a mutual curiosity as you people watch.

It was interesting to come to your own conclusions about people with only a snapshot of their lives like this, and it makes you wonder how people must be perceiving you and Eddie together. Are people assuming the two of you are dating? You couldn’t blame people for thinking that, but what else were they thinking about you? Do the two of you even look good together?

“Look mommy! What is that?”

The voice of a little boy catches your attention. A small pointed finger in your general direction makes you feel uneasy as you automatically assume the child must be pointing at Eddie. Sure, a man in a wheelchair has the potential to puzzle a child, but you didn’t know how Eddie would react to this kind of attention in a raw, childlike form.

“That’s called a mistletoe, dear,” the stressed mother answers, eyes looking your direction for a brief moment. Except, you notice her gaze lands just above you, prompting you to tilt your head back. And you’d be damned to find a small mistletoe handing from a thin string from the ceiling tile above you.

“Huh,” you hear Eddie say next to you. The sudden realization that the mistletoe is hanging above yours and Eddie’s head has heat rising to your cheeks. You keep your head locked while your eyes shift to look at Eddie out of your peripheral.

Sure enough he was looking at it, too.

“Didn’t see that there before.” The words spill from your mouth without much forethought. Eddie clears his throat, and you steal another quick glance at him. His cheeks have an ever so slight pink tint to them, which only makes your stomach do flips.

Eddie has play flirted and said his fair share of raunchy jokes with you in the recent weeks. Never really giving as much of a hint of embarrassment in his actions, you assumed that he felt comfortable enough with your…friendship? That he didn’t care to treat you like one of his boys.

Given your newly realized feelings, it’s admittedly stung a bit. However, the reaction he’s giving now at being caught under a mistletoe with you is only fueling any delusions that you’ve ever entertained between the two of you.

“Me—me either,” he stutters, his eyes shifting down to the floor tiles beneath him. His bashfulness drives you crazy, and you have the sudden intrusive thought to just kiss him. And you almost consider it, if it wasn’t for the potential awkwardness that would result from your potential misreading of the moment.

“Have-have you, um, ever…you know?” Eddie chokes on almost every word, leg bouncing against the pedal as he speaks.

“I’m sorry, have I ever—?”

“Ever kissed. Like, under the mistletoe or whatever.” Eddie clarifies, gesturing to the decoration while still avoiding eye contact.

“O-oh, um,” you think for a moment of every kiss you’ve ever had in your life and suddenly blanking. “Maybe once or twice. In, like, middle school or high school. What about you?”

Eddie shifts in his chair, “No, no, it’s…I’ve not before. Not that I wouldn’t,” Eddie looks at you, then turns away again. “I mean, I’ve never been under one with someone before.”

“Do you want one?”

Eddie stills, blinking slowly as he processes your words.

“Do I want a kiss?”

You nod.

“I mean I guess I wouldn’t be against—”

Eddie is quieted by the sudden contact. You press your lips against his cheek, landing on the edge of the large scar. It’s only for a moment, but it feels like a lifetime to Eddie.

When you pull away, you do your best to maintain composure. Giving him a forced smile, you rise from your seat to look at him straight on.

“There you go,” you say, hands landing on your hips. “Now you can say you’ve had your first mistletoe kiss.”

“Eddie, Eddie, shhh it’s okay.”

Pulling him into you, you run a hand up and down his back soothingly in an attempt to calm Eddie’s still sleeping form. Screams of terror begin to fade out into small moans and whimpers the more you comfort him.

Slowly he wakes, his arms wrapping around you as he begins to sob. You don’t ask him about his dreams, or rather, his nightmares. You’re sure that it would only make things worse, so you just let him cry himself back to sleep against you.

“—Oh, shit, sorry.”

Your eyes shoot open at the sound of Wayne’s voice. You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep, still leaning against the head of Eddie’s bed as he snored in your lap.

“No, it’s okay,” you whisper yawn, gently lifting Eddie’s head until you could place a pillow under it. Tiptoeing out of Eddie’s room, you join Wayne in the hallway, who looks like he just got home.

“Sorry if I woke ya,” Wayne says in a low voice.

“It’s okay, really,” you say rubbing your eyes. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. He had another night terror so I was just trying to settle him down s'all.”

Wayne hums, a hint of disbelief in his tone. You thought about pressing the matter, but figured doubling down would only push Wayne into believing whatever he already convinced himself more. Besides, getting a couple more hours of sleep before the weekend officially started sounded like something you wanted to take advantage of.

When you did finally wake up, you did your normal Saturday morning routine before your morning shift at the coffee shop. After getting dressed, you place a full glass of water and a little cup full of his morning meds on Eddie’s nightstand and pull out a fresh pair of clothes for him to put on after he wakes up. As you go to leave, you glance over to the newly wrapped gifts that sit below the Munson’s Charlie Brown inspired Christmas tree and think about how you wish you had seen Wayne’s face when he saw them earlier.

Your work day flew by. The nonstop in and out of shoppers getting their morning caffeine fix or their afternoon refill kept you constantly moving. And before you knew it, you were grabbing your own cup to go and heading out the door to trek the the almost 3 hour drive from work to your home town.

Once you made it to Anderson, you stopped by a local flower shop, one that you’d been going to since you were a kid, to pick out some nice flowers to leave at the graves of your parents and grandparents. The owner made some small talk with you, asking about school and how Tonya was doing.

The mentioning of your friend reminded you that you still needed to give her the gift you’d gotten her before she left to visit Charles' family for the holiday. You were thankful that the Munson’s asked you to join them Christmas day, otherwise you’d be spending the holiday by yourself for the first time in your life.

With your flowers in hand, you placed each bundle at the graves. You spent a good amount of time with each one, talking with the markers as if your loved ones were there and listening. You’re not sure how long you were there. But eventually the cold became too much and you had to leave.

Driving out of the cemetery was always really hard. Your parents had been gone long enough now that you’d come to peace with them being gone. It still hurt, but didn’t feel as much like salt in a wound as your grandparents. But, the deep sadness you normally felt was lighter than usual. The thought of your next destination—back to the same mall you had spent the evening with Eddie in—made you feel like you had a purpose for the first time in a long while.

You’re sure he hadn’t noticed, but you had kept your eye on Eddie as he shopped around. Anything he took interest in as the two of you perused the mall you took note of, fully planning on returning to pick out some to gift him. You doubt that he go you anything, but that didn’t really matter to you. You wanted to get him things he wanted, knowing he wasn’t going to spend the money on himself.

“What’s W.A.S.P?” Tonya mumbles through a mouth full of sugar cookie as she flips a cassette case in her hand. Her eyes go wide as she reads the track titles on the back.

“They’re a metal band,” you say, grabbing it from her and centering it the middle of your wrapping paper. “Jeff gave Eddie a shirt of theirs, so I’m guessing he must like them.”

“Girl, one of those tracks was called Ballcrusher,” she says with a concerned look that made you laugh.

“Hey, I’m not here to judge,” you shrug, wrapping the cassette nicely and laying it next to a few more that were already wrapped. “It’s cooler than the ovenmits you got Charles.”

“Excuse you, he asked for new mits.” Tonya points her half eaten cookie at you before taking another bite. “And I think they fit his personality very well.”

“They’re plain beige,” you say monotonally.

“Exactly,” Tonya nods with a smile. “Plain and beige, and safe.”

You tsk and roll your eyes, mumbling a little whatever as you organize your gifts. Some might say you went a little overboard for someone who you’ve only been taking care of for just shy of 5 months. But, it was hard to narrow anything down when you envisioned Eddie’s face as he opened all of his new possessions. It was enough to justify the…8…9…11 things you got for him.

“Can I tell you something…”

You look over at Tonya, who seems to be unable to contain a smile as she waits for you to answer.

“Of course,” you say, turning to give her your full attention.

“Okay, so, I know it’s the holiday season or whatever, and I could totally be wrong. But…”

“But?”

“But…” She takes a deep breath in. “...I think Charlie is going to propose to me at his family’s Christmas.”

You shoot up straight in your chair. A few months ago you might not have been so keen on this speculation, but the last few months Charles seems to have loosened up a bit. You also stopped caring about him taking your parking spot considering you were hardly here much anyway between school, work, and being at the Munson’s.

“Oh my god. What? Why do you think that?”

“So, we went and did some Christmas shopping at that new outlet mall the other day. And while I was in the bathroom, he thought he would be slick and went into a jewelry shop. When I came out I saw him through the window and I’m, like, 99 percent positive he was looking at rings!”

The two of you gush and squeal over the prospect of Tonya’s future nuptials. Talks of colours and styles of dresses fill the room as the two of you talk for hours.

“You know,” Tonya starts from the other side of the shower curtain, “Even if you are the maid of honor, I’m putting my foot down about one thing.”

“Oh, yeah,” you ask before spitting out your tooth paste into the sink, “And what might that be?”

“If you plan on bringing Eddie as a plus one, I have to at least meet him once before the actual wedding.”

You feel your cheeks heating up a bit. “I…I don’t see why that couldn’t be arranged—”

“Ideally, I’d also like the two of you to have confessed your love for each other by then, too—”

“Stoooooooop, you don’t know that he’s in love with me. This could be totally one sided.”

“Or,” Tonya pokes her head out from the curtain, “he could be completely head over heals for you and one of you just needs to make a move already.”

“What the—do you need help?” Dustin moves towards you to help with the balancing act of carrying all your presents into the Munson house. He grabs a few gifts and ushers you inside.

“Thanks Dustin,” you say, heading towards the Christmas tree that is filled even more so now than it was when you left Saturday morning. “It’s starting to look like Santa wont have any room to bring presents.”

“We’re going to take care of most of that tonight,” Jeff says with a smile as he pushes Eddie’s chair into the living room.

Eddie looked very handsome tonight in his red sweater and black slacks. It even looked like he took his time to properly do his hair today. You loved when Eddie would let you get his curls looking just right with a little product and styling.

“Hey,” he waved to you, more reserved than his normal goofy self.

“Well, hey there hot stuff. You look really nice tonight,” you say, leaning in to give him a hug. He went rigid for a moment before melting into the embrace.

“About time you got here,” Mike calls from the kitchen, causing you to jump back. “You better hurry up and get some of this pizza before Gareth freaking eats it all.”

“Dude, I’m hungry!” Gareth shouts defensively. Will puts a hand on his shoulder to comfort him as everyone laughs them off.

“Where’s your friend,” you ask the room, scanning it for a new face. The boys said they had convinced their friend Lucas to finally come to a Hellfire meeting after several long months.

“He should be here soon,” Dustin says in an overly reassuring way.

“Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it,” Mike scoffs.

“You were there, dude. He said he would come.”

“He said he would think about it. Never said he was gonna show up for sure.”

“If Sinclair shows up, we’ll greet him with open arms,” Eddie speaks up, “And if he doesn’t…well,” the room stills,”...there will always be other Hellfire Club meetings.”

Before the game begins, the boys take turns passing around gifts to each other. You’ve never seen so many sets of colourful dice in your entire life, but they all seemed very excited to receive them. Eddie was given a few band shirts and some cool looking records as well. He was so grateful for each gift he was given, a constant roll of thanks coming from him.

For a moment, you thought he might be getting overwhelmed when you saw a him wipe away a tear. You rest your hand on his arm, but he waves you off and reassures that he’s just really, really happy. It made your heart feel full to see him in such a good place. The amount of growth he’s done in such a short time never ceases to amaze you.

Eventually the game started rolling. You took the opportunity to clean up the mess of wrapping paper that was littered across the living room. The boys tried to get you to join them, but you told them that you wouldn’t be as fun to play with since you’d ask so many questions.

But Eddie still managed to keep you returning to the table. A few beers deep, he decided to skip his nighttime pain med. This led to his hands starting to ache (allegedly), which meant he needed you to roll his dice for him. Even if you knew it was just his way of getting you to hang out and avoid the pile of laundry that was staring you down, you let him have his fun and played along.

“Another 20!” You shout, jumping up and down. Eddie laughs manically while the rest of the table groans and protests.

“Maybe it’s a good thing she didn’t play with us,” Dustin says shaking his head. You stick your tongue out at him and he makes a face back at you.

But the feeling of something touching your back pulls you from the playful banter. Looking around, you realize Eddie has his hand resting on your lower back, rubbing small circles there as he refocuses on the game. It’s not an unwelcome touch by any means, but it does feel very intimate all things considered.

And it’s only made worse as his hand moves completely across your back, not stopping to trace back and almost hooking you around the waist. He pulls you closer to him until your bodies are flush, besides where the wheelchair separates you. His head rests against you, all of his attention on the game, making the action feel like a subconscious move.

You weren’t going to make a scene about it, so you instead embrace the affection and let your hand rest on his opposite shoulder. From the corner of your eye you see the smile on his face grow until his dimples are on full display.

At the end of the night, the boys made their exit, leaving the pizza and drinks for you and Eddie to indulge in for the next day. Lucas never showed, but Dustin and Mike seemed determined to make him come out soon.

Once the boys were loaded up and down the drive way, you went straight to the sink to get to work on the dishes. But, before you could get passed the threshold of the kitchen, Eddie gently grabbed your wrist to still you.

“What’s wrong Edward?” You tease. His flush cheeks told you that he let himself go a little more than usually when he drinks.

“Shhhh don’t say my name like that,” he says with a slur of his words.

“Why not? It’s you’re name isn’t it?”

“Makes me feel like I’m in trouble or something.”

“Oh, do you feel guilty about something?”

You didn’t think that your words would hit any chords with Eddie. But the silly outward expression suddenly turned into one of shock. The air shifted in a spit second and you were instantly on damage control.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, fully facing him. Eddie looked like he was on the verge of tears, eyes getting glassier by the second. His body moves as a sob escapes from him, and any resolve Eddie had was gone as he lets everything go.

You crouch in front of him, hands on his shoulders as he begins to wail, body shaking as he lets everything out.

“H-he didn’t--did’t-didn’t show--show up because of me!” The shaky words come out, and you instantly realize the error of your wording.

You pull him into you, letting him cry into your shoulder as you pet his hair, holding him tightly to comfort him

“Shhh, Eddie, nooo,” you speak low next to his ear. “You’re not to blame for what happened. You were a victim, too, Eddie. There isn’t anything you could have done—”

“If I had just died—if Dustin had just left me there instead of finding Steve and Robin…They-they—”

Eddie starts to hyperventilate. His head lifts from your shoulder as he struggled to get his breath. You jump to your feet and run to the kitchen to grab a paper bag that had been left from the gas station beers. You run back to him and instruct him to breath into it, coaching him to imitate you as you demonstrate taking deep breaths.

After a few minutes, Eddie is able to somewhat calm himself down. Tears still rolling down his cheeks, he leans back into his chair, running his hands over his face and through his hair. You can tell he’s avoiding looking at you. But you’re not sure if its out of shame or if he’ upset with you.

“Eddie?” You ask quietly. He flinches, but slowly lowers his head until he’s facing you, his eyes looking downwards rather than at you. But it’s good enough for you.

“Eddie, I’m sorry—”

“Don’t.” His voice is still wobbly, eyes closing again as he breathes in.

“No, Eddie, you need to listen to me. Okay?”

Eddie looks at you, almost through you, but you take the silence as the signal to continue.

“Eddie…I know it might be hard to understand. But…whatever happened back in March…it’s not your fault.” His eyes shift and he starts to blink rapidly, but he doesn’t speak. “I can understand why you think that your friend is mad at you, but I think you know he’s not. He’s just worried about your other friend, Max. And whatever happened to Max…you didn’t force that monster to do that to her. Nor did you make him hurt the other victims.”

Eddie takes in a sharp breath, coming out haggard as you can tell he’s trying to hold back from crying again.

“And whatever happened to you…” You take his hands in yours, looking at the scared skin that decorates it. You let your hands fall against his thighs, just above where his leg is amputated. “Was not your fault.”

“You’ll never understand,” he says suddenly, catching you off guard. “You don’t know what actually happened.”

“Then, tell me Eddie. Help me understand.”

Eddie’s eyes scan your face. Then his head shakes, his curls whipping around as he does.

“I can’t. Even if I wanted to I…I just can’t.”

You nod, “And that’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. Because I don’t think my mind would change even if I did know.”

“Can I go outside?” He asks, pulling his hands from yours.

“Sure,” you say with a smile. “Maybe we can get you showered and ready for bed after?”

“Yeah, okay,” he says, pushing himself to the door.

“Just hand me the lighter, asshole.”

Gareth’s hand reaches across the coffee table impatiently for Eddie to hand him the bright red lighter after the joint they were passing around had gone out.

“Nope, only people who tell the truth get to use my lighter,” Eddie says holding the lighter to his chest.

“Eddie, don’t press him. He doesn’t want to talk about it,” you say, taking a sip from your concoction of a drink that Grant’s girlfriend, Tina, made for you. You lean into him so that only he could hear you. “How would you feel if someone was pestering Wayne about Ben like that?”

That seemed to shut Eddie up. He finally tossed the lighter to Gareth, who wasted no time in lighting the joint back up.

“So, how did Christmas at the Munson’s go?” Jeff asks, plopping down on the couch next to Eddie, handing him another beer.

“It was, and I am not exaggerating,” Eddie starts with a slight slur of his words, “probably the best Christmas I’ve ever had. Like, this one right here?” He points his thumb to you. “I didn’t think I’d ever know what it feels like to be spoiled, but that’s definitely how she treated me.”

“Wait a second,” you scoff, “I did not spoil you. I just found some things that I thought you’d like and figured I’d get them for you.” You shrug, giving Tina, Grant's girlfriend, a look of feigned innocence as you turned to face her. The two of you had been doing quite a bit of chatting since you arrived, instantly clicking as you two seemed to have a lot in common.

She did ask you how long you and Eddie had been together, however. And you had to awkwardly explain that you were just his caregiver. It made you wonder what Grant had to be telling her about you and Eddie for her to think that the two of you were together.

“Did you get her anything?” Grant asks, nodding to you.

“Of course,” Eddie says with faux offense. “I bought her some of the lotion that she keeps in her bag, some of her favorite snacks, a copy of her favorite movie that she said she lost when she moved, and a study book for school.”

“You also got me a whole box full of snacks,” you say, nudging him.

“That was just because you are constantly talking about how you wish you had this or that when we’re watching a movie or something,”

“Are you sure you are not dating?” Tina leans in and asks you with genuine curiosity.

The guys laugh, but you reassure her that you’re not.

“When you spend as much time together as we do, you tend to pick up on each other’s interests. I’m sure you and Grant are the same way.”

“We are,” she says with an enthusiastic nod, “Because we are dating.”

“Shh, hey, the ball is gonna drop!”

The small TV in Grant’s living room shows that only 15 seconds remain until the ball is about to drop. You move closer to Eddie to see the TV better, and he wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you into him.

Everyone’s eyes are on the TV as the countdown begins. As the numbers go down, you rapidly reflect on 1986.

The beginning half of the year seemed uneventful compared to the latter in the grand scheme of things. You recall all the highs and lows that you and Eddie have been in together since you first met, when you realized that what you were feeling was more than it should ever be and how you’ll likely never get the chance to do so.

But you also reflect on the wonderful new friends that you’ve made, including Wayne, who you hoped was having a good night with Ben. And the younger boys, who said they were going to the hospital to spend the new year with Lucas and Max.

Only a few seconds remain, so you turn to face Eddie, whose eyes were still on the small screen. An idea came across your mind. You pucker your lips, gearing up to plant a fat kiss on his cheek once the ball dropped. You were sure we would be embarrassed getting a cheek kiss in front of his friends, but doubted he could keep a grudge long.

As the room cheered at the end of the countdown, you closed your eyes and leaned in.

But you instantly knew something was off once your lips made contact. Instead of the textured skin you were expecting, you felt softness against your lips.

And when you opened your eyes, you were met with chocolate brown ones looking right back at you. Eyebrows raised into bewilderment, it took you a few seconds to process what was happening.

Then it hits you.

You were kissing Eddie. And he wasn't stopping you.

thank you for reading!

a/n: hello! I wanted to make all of the readers of this series aware that I have decided to change up the direction I’m going with it. I feel like I’m straying away from some important elements and I want to try and regroup starting from part 6 and onwards. I plan on keeping some plot points I previously had planned, but they may just be executed differently than I intended. I dont believe the changes will have an affect on the story so far, but still felt that I should mention it.

Again, thank you all for being patient with me and I hope to have the next part out here sooner than later <3

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson st #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #disabled!eddie munson #disabled!eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie st

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yanderecrazysie · 8 months

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Twisted Zoo (Prologue)

Summary: You’re a brand new zookeeper at The Halfling Zoo- a place where half-animals live in captivity. Your job is simple- feed them and study them. Your main worry is that one of the more dangerous halflings might kill you.

Unfortunately, that may become the least of your worries.

WARNINGS: none for now

Note: This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui except I decided to take it a step further and include all the dorms. I know that a lot of these animals don’t fit them perfectly, but I did the best I could. I left out Ortho because he has no age and he looks really young so… no.

All characters are aged up, since there will be mature themes in future parts.

Also, I can’t promise I’ll finish this. I suck at finishing stories.

Chapter One here

—----------------------

“Pleased to meet you Mr. Crowley.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Ms. (Y/n)!”

You smiled up at your new boss, taking in his eccentric appearance- everything from his crow feather-lined cape, to his sparkling suit, to his top hat, and to the black bird mask that covered half his face.

That name suits him.

“Now, you’re mainly a researcher, but you will also be assisting with some of the general chores, such as feeding the animals,” Mr. Crowley explained what you already knew.

“That’s alright,” you said, smiling brightly, “That will allow me to observe even more of their behaviors.”

You were fresh out of college and ready to face The Halfling Zoo. There was plenty of debate whether it was okay to treat half-humans as animals and keep them in a zoo, but it was convenient for you. You didn’t have to travel the world to attempt to study animals from afar through a camera lens.

“You will be supervising the lion and hyena exhibit, the wolf exhibit, the panther and tiger exhibit, the bird exhibits, the reptile house, and the aquarium,” Mr. Crowley explained.

“Wait, did you mean to say the lions and hyenas are together? And the panthers and tigers? Or did I misunderstand?” you asked, confused.

“They are bonded groups, so it would be wrong to separate them,” Crowley explained, “Halflings don’t always act like their animal counterparts.”

You nodded, cursing yourself internally. You had learned that on your first day at college! How could I be so stupid to forget about the bonds different Halfling species make?

“Follow me,” Mr. Crowley’s voice broke through your thoughts, “I’ll show you around.”

The two of you left the cramped office in the main staff building and headed out onto the guests’ paths. You could see a few families walking by- less than usual, since it was nearing closing time. It felt as though the sky was growing darker by the minute as the sun made its way down the horizon, beautiful orange and pink clouds lighting its path.

You almost immediately arrived at the lion and hyena exhibit. It was a huge enclosure, the terrain so detailed that you felt as though you had stepped straight into an African savannah. In fact, you could even feel the heat emanating from the ground itself.

“We keep it as hot as their home naturally is,” Mr. Crowley explained, reading your thoughts, “They’re happy here- it’s home with no need to hunt to survive.”

You nodded, but inside you wondered if that was really true or not. Were they really happier in a giant cage on display for humans than they were in Africa? You couldn’t imagine feeling that way.

Mr. Crowley pointed out a big rock where a pride of lions had gathered, “On top of that rock is the top dog- er, cat, I mean. The king of the jungle.”

Upon closer inspection, and a lot more eye strain, you could make out a figure lying on the top of the large rock. It was a Lion Halfling, with tan skin and thick, dark mane of brown hair that fell to his shoulders, except for the braids in front of his face, which were even longer. You could just make out the lion’s ears on top of his head and the lion’s tail draped over the rock’s side.

“And those are the hyenas,” Mr. Crowley supplied, pointing to the edge of the enclosure, “They’re used to aggressive females, so the males might be a little jumpy around you.”

You remembered reading about that in school, but it was amazing to see all the Halflings in person. You couldn’t help but feel excited to study them up close. Imagine if you made a big discovery that no one else had ever discovered about Halflings! After all, there were a lot of unknowns about them.

“Onto the wolf exhibit!” Mr. Crowley said in a sing-song voice.

The enclosure was right across the way from the lions and hyenas, but it had a completely different feel. The air was cooler when you walked up to the giant forest. Through the trees, it was difficult to actually see any wolf halflings. You thought you saw a flash of white, but it was too quick to tell.

“Yes, well, this exhibit is pretty quiet during the day,” the zoo director said awkwardly, “They’ll be out tonight, howling at the moon and whatnot.”

“Wolves don’t actually howl at the moon,” you helpfully supplied, “They howl to communicate with other wolves.”

Mr. Crowley stared at you for a moment and you wondered if you had annoyed him, until he grinned widely, “Such a knowledgeable new researcher!”

You smiled at the compliment, a little embarrassed as the two of you headed for the panther and tiger exhibit. You were surprised to see it alive with Halflings, all of them staring back at the two of you with narrowed eyes.

“There’s two black panthers,” Mr. Crowley pointed them out, “and two albino tigers. The four of them are as thick as thieves.”

You cautiously waved at them, but they merely turned away and disappeared into the jungle enclosure. You wondered if they were somehow curious to see you, or if they always did this to guests.

“Next, the bird exhibits!” Mr. Crowley led the way to the aviary. He pointed out Halflings left and right in the closely-packed enclosures, “A parrot, three albino peacocks, two flamingos, an owl, and a raven. You’ll get to know them well, since they’re mostly all very friendly. Except the peacocks are a little cocky.”

You giggled a little and waved to all the birds. It was a futile effort, because, save for the owl halfling, they were all fast asleep. The owl halfling stayed on his perch, wings tucked around his body, his bespectacled face scrutinizing you. Not in a rude way, just sort of deciding what you were.

You followed Mr. Crowley into a heated building with a glass wall on one side. You peered through the glass wall and immediately spotted the Boa Constrictor Halfling lying against the wall. Human until the torso, which then winded into a snake tail.

“Don’t be fooled!” Mr. Crowley said, “There is more than one snake in that exhibit. See if you can spot it.”

You looked at every angle, struggling to spot anything different. Then, a part of the sand moved and two gray eyes glared back at you.

“A Viper Halfling, right?” you said in awe, “Aren’t those venomous?”

“Ah, yes, well,” Mr. Crowley stuttered a little, “Don’t get bitten.”

You stared at him for a moment before it sunk in. All of these animals, except the birds, were extremely dangerous! And you were going to go into their enclosures to study and feed them? Were you insane?

You pushed down the panic and took a deep breath. This is what you signed up for. You probably already waived all your rights away anyway. You hadn’t looked at the fine print of your contracts, of course.

You noticed another tank on the other side of the room and walked up to it. You couldn’t see anything inside this one, but Mr. Crowley was quick to explain, “There’s a salamander in this one. A beautiful electric blue, but extremely shy.”

You peered inside, trying to catch a glance of blue, but you couldn’t see a thing.

“Lastly, the aquarium,” Mr. Crowley clapped his hands together, as though to bring you back to reality.

The aquarium was a huge glass tank where visitors could go down the stairs and see inside. The two of you walked by it, and saw very little signs of life.

“You’ll probably see the eel twins a bit. They’re a little shy at first, but Floyd is pretty playful. The octopus, on the other hand, rarely leaves his cave. He’ll venture out to eat, but that’s about it. We should have made that damn thing see-through, but it’s too late now.”

You were glad it was a normal cave, and not transparent like the glass. The Octopus Halfling probably felt safe inside it. It wouldn’t be fair to rob him of that simple pleasure.

“That’s the end of your tour, young lady,” Mr. Crowley said cheerfully, “You start bright and early tomorrow, have a long lunch break, then leave late at night. Are you sure you’re ready to do this?”

He looked down at you with a hint of nervousness, as though he expected you to say “no”. But you were determined and excited to explore what your classes had trained you for. Real life application.

“I’m ready!”

Note: So, some of the animals are obvious, but I’m wondering what you all think the others are?

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland

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heizouz · 1 year

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begging for sub lyney + praise kink i'd do Anything

nsfw sub!lyney + gn!reader, praise, lots of praise, dumb lyney

this isn't my favourite piece but lyney is all i can think about recently so i just had to get this out as fast as possible. thank u SM for this req bc it's just made me think abt how much of a praise kink he'd have lorddd... n e way i hope this is okay!!.. <33

"you did so good today."

lyney thinks he will burst if one more compliment falls from your lips. you're close—too close. your hands are all over him, teasing the buttons of his shirt, tugging at his belt loops, tracing along the lines of his jaw. he's so flustered, worked up, adrenaline still flooding through his body from his previous performance.

his hat and shoulder cape have been discarded on the makeup desk behind him, your eagerness not giving him any time to take a breath as you'd hurried him into his dressing room and painted his face with needy kisses. lyney had laughed, pushing you away to cheekily ask if you'd enjoyed the performance that much; his cockiness soon fading once the praises started tumbling out between desperate kisses against his skin.

your thigh is between lyney's parted legs, his back against the makeup desk; hands fisting the material of your shirt at your shoulders as he grinds against your thigh. he's whimpering, soft and embarrassed—a complete switch to his usual confident on stage persona and you can't help but feel the wave of pride at the way lyney can't seem to look up, fixated on the way he moves so obediently for you.

"look at you." you sigh, head tilting as you watch him fall apart against your leg. your eyes are soft but dark, taking in the desperate cant of his hips and pretty gasps with every movement.

you're not even doing anything. lyney does all the work—working himself along your thigh, fingers curling into your shirt, eyebrows furrowed with concentration to make himself finish.

he'd been so stressed for his performance, so it'd been your plan all along to let it be known how well he did. the relief of finally getting his act done was clear as lyney was so accepting to relieve himself, to let you reward him for such a good show.

"just like that," you whisper. your hand tilts his head to finally look up at you, his eyes glassy and needy, "my pretty lyney."

lyney flushes at the praise, breath hitching, "st-stop, please." though his thrusts never seem to slow, hips only stuttering a little.

you take note of that, eyebrows raising when you flicker your gaze to his desperate grinding, "you want to stop?" you press your thigh harder against him, leaning impossibly closer across body, "but you're doing such a good job for me, darling."

"mh-hah-" lyney whines, loud, at the feeling of your thigh pressing hard against his cock straining against his shorts. he doesn't seem to realise how pitchy he's getting, brain fuzzy and too focused on you and your close body and the praises and his need to show you how even better he can be.

lyney can't think when you press your hand over his mouth to stifle his increasing moans. your chest presses against his and although he never seizes to slow the movement of his hips, your close proximity and the weight of your body pressing him hard against the makeup desk forces his eyes to roll back at the friction of your thigh against his cock. he can feel himself dripping against the material of his shorts, so incredibly close to breaking from just the press of your thigh alone. the thought would've flooded him with embarrassment if he could think properly.

you force him to keep eye contact, his eyes lidded and glossed over, the only thing separating you being your hand covering his mouth. your eyebrows furrow a little at the halt of his hips, "hm? don't stop, dove. you're being so perfect for me."

he feels so hot, his throat is closed up, unable to form a coherent word except the muffled whimpers and whines. his brain is muddled, the previous anxiety of a bad performance completely erased because now he's being good for you, he's so perfect, he's doing such a good job.

and to top it off, you lean in close when he starts to rock his hips at your command, whispering the words, "good boy." and lyney could cry.

lyney's eyes threaten to close, eyebrows scrunched and pretty breathy whimpers bleed past your hand over his mouth at the words, hips stuttering against your leg. purple irises gloss over with tears of pleasure, everything all too much and all you can do is smirk a little at how fucked out the usual suave and charming magician is.

"'m gonna-" lyney mumbles behind your hand, breath quickening and he pleads with his eyes, words stopping halfway to moan noisily.

"ah-ah!" you rip away his chance suddenly, hand dropping from his mouth and you back up slightly so you're no longer situated between his legs. lyney whines, bucking into the air at the loss of friction, eyes pooling with tears.

"n-no, please, please." lyney's desperate, voice broken and whiny.

"not yet, dove. 'need to get these off." you play with the belt loops of his shorts, tugging him a little closer. you smile wolfishly, going to pull the material down, "i need to reward you properly."

#i actually dont like this #it couldve been better #but whatever #i want to see him cry and whine #sub lyney #lyney #genshin impact #dom reader #genshin smut #genshin x reader #sub genshin #genshin #requests #send asks #asks #lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyney smut

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lukesvangelista · 14 days

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

in which y/n and kent hide a big secret from his teammates.

warnings; pregnancy, mention of kids, alcohol, vacation

Kent was the kind of guy who always seemed at ease, the life of the party but with a quiet confidence that drew everyone to him. You had fallen for him long ago, when the two of you were young teenagers, and now, you were his everything. This vacation with his teammates was supposed to be fun, a chance to unwind, but you had a secret - one that had been growing for months.

You were pregnant.

Kent was ecstatic when you told him. He’d hugged you so tightly that night, whispering about the future, about how perfect everything was going to be. But now, here you both were, on this vacation with Sean Kuraly, Cole, Gavin, and Adam, and neither of you had told them. The timing wasn’t right - in fact, you guys hadn’t even told your families. Maybe they’d get suspicious, or worse, maybe they’d feel like you were holding out on them. Kent was sure they’d freak out once they knew.

But here you were, at Sean’s beach house in Cape Cod. While the rest of the boys had flown, you and Kent had decided to make the 16 hour drive from Columbus, simply to spend more time with each other before having to share a living space with the others for two weeks. Once you had arrived, though, everyone was exhausted and just wanted to spend the first night in. In fact, Adam had suggested a few card games.

There was only one problem. On top of that, Cole had suggested alcohol. You looked at Kent nervously, but he gave you a reassuring smile as Sean turned to you, “Y/N, come up with a challenge for us. Whoever loses has to buy drinks.”

This was perfect. You nodded, picking up your phone and opening a random wheel spinner. You had each of the boys pick an NBA team, but when it came to entering them onto the wheel, you entered Kent’s all four times. So, when the wheel stopped spinning, you announced the team out loud, “The Minnesota Timberwolves.”

Sean, Adam, and Cole all cheered as Kent pretended to roll his eyes, but he sneakily shot you a knowing smile before picking up his keys from the counter. The boys slapped him on the back a few times but he shook them off, gently grabbing your arm, “Since your challenge is the reason I lost, you’re coming with me.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, but immediately gave in. Adam snickered behind you as Sean and Cole let out a few cheers. Kent wrapped an arm around you and opened the door for you, gently leading you to his car. As soon as you were out of earshot, Kent spoke up softly, “You feeling okay?”

You couldn’t lie. The exhaustion was creeping in. The pregnancy was still early, and you weren’t showing much, but the morning sickness, the fatigue – it was all becoming harder to hide. Kent had noticed the change in you almost immediately, but knew that it had grown harder for you in the past couple of weeks. He was worried. He was so excited to have a little him or little you around the house soon enough, but also hated seeing how hard it was on you. On top of that, he knew that you wanted to keep it a secret for as long as you could, and he knew you’d be even more stressed if people were to find out, so he didn’t want to spill anything.

In fact, he questioned even coming on this trip, but you had explained that you’d needed it. Whether he believed you or not, was only up for him to decide.

He opened the car door for you and you waited to reply until he was buckled in on the other side, “Just tired,” you answered, offering him a small smile.

He rubbed the pad of his thumb across your cheek, “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

You nodded, offering him another small smile. The drive to the liquor store was rather quiet. Kent had put on some Frank Ocean, which you both had softly hummed along to until you pulled into the parking lot.

Kent turned off the car and exited his side, only to appear on your side of the car a few seconds later to open the door for you. You grabbed his hand and as soon as he knew you were safely out of the car, he placed his arm on the small of your back protectively. The cool night breeze rolled in off of the ocean as you made your way through the parking lot. The distant sound of the waves crashing against the shore helped ease some of the nerves that had been building up inside of you.

“I feel like I’m gonna slip up at some point,” you admitted, resting your head against your boyfriend’s shoulder, “Cole’s just gonna keep offering me drinks and it’s gonna be suspicious if I keep saying no.”

Kent rubbed your back with the pad of his thumb, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head reassuringly, “You’re doing great, pretty girl. But I’ll tell you what. We’ll buy an extra pack of drinks, dump them out, and then go to the grocery store to buy some non-alcoholic alternatives that we can put in there instead. I would say we’d just buy some non-alcoholic beer here and have you drink that, but Adam’s overly observant.” he chuckled.

You nodded, shooting your boyfriend a relieved smile. You always appreciated how calm and steady he was. Even though you were both navigating this secret together, Kent always managed to make you feel like everything was under control.

When you stepped inside, the cool air-conditioning hit you immediately as the door jingled behind you. Kent headed straight for the fridge, grabbing a couple cases of beer and a bottle of whiskey that he knew Sean would like. You followed suit, selecting a case of High Noon out of the fridge.

“Ready?” Kent asked, shooting you a smile when you replied with a yes.

As you reached the counter to pay, the cashier raised an eyebrow at you and Kent, his eyes flicking to your stomach before looking back at Kent. You shifted uncomfortably, aware that people might notice your changing body sooner rather than later. Kent caught the look too but didn’t say anything, keeping the conversation casual with the cashier as he handed over the money.

When you stepped back outside, you breathed a little easier. “Think he noticed?” you asked, half-joking.

“What an asshole,” Kent muttered, rolling his eyes playfully.

The trip to the grocery store was pretty uneventful. Kent had gone in and picked out a sparkling water brand that you liked, along with some flavored sodas that looked fancy enough to pass as mixed drinks. On top of that, he grabbed a few more things, making sure you’d have enough variety to keep up appearances for the next few days. Once the cart was full, he checked out, the cashier giving him a friendly nod as he paid for the items.

When Kent reached the car, he opened your passenger side door. “Now comes the tricky part,” he said with a grin, opening up the package of High Noon and dumping out the drinks. He grabbed a few water bottles from his trunk before flushing out the alcohol from the cans - and thoroughly.

“I think that’s good, KJ,” you chuckled, flashing him a smile. He looked up at you and flashed you one in return.

“Gotta keep my girls safe,” he explained, ruffling your hair before opening up the bottles of sparkling water and pouring them into the clean cans with the same care, resealing them to make sure they looked untouched. Everything looked perfect - no one would suspect a thing. Kent stood back and took a moment to admire his work, placing the resealed package at your feet before ruffling your hair again.

You rolled your eyes, shaking him off, before he quickly made his way back to his side of the car and hopped in. You looked at him incredulously, “We don’t even know what we’re having yet!” you exclaimed, but you knew there was no point in arguing. Ever since you told him that he was going to be a dad, he was adamant that the two of you were having a baby girl. Of course, he’d be happy as long as the baby’s safe and healthy, but that didn’t change his fatherly instinct, as he liked to call it. You rolled your eyes again, chuckling softly, and were on your way back to the beach house.

When the two of you arrived back there, Sean, Cole, and Adam’s rowdy laughter could be heard through the walls as you and Kent slipped through the side door into the kitchen. When he looked over towards you, he noticed how you self-consciously had placed your arms over your growing bump. Sensing your discomfort, he softly placed the alcohol down and gifted you the hoodie off of his back.

You smiled gratefully at him, grabbing the “seltzers” from him as he carried the whiskey and beer. The two of you carried the drinks out to the main room, where Sean, Cole, and Adam were engrossed in a game of Black Jack.

“Finally!” Cole exclaimed, dropping his cards as he noticed the two of you walk in, “We were wondering what took you so long!”

You chuckled, placing the drinks down on the table alongside Kent, “It’s Friday night in a vacation town,” Kent explained, shrugging his shoulders to keep it casual. Adam nodded along, seemingly saying fair enough.

As the guys reached for the beer and whiskey, Kent grabbed one of the “seltzer” cans and handed it to you with a wink. You accepted it gratefully, taking a sip and letting the cool, refreshing taste calm your nerves. He then wrapped an arm around you as you cuddled into his side.

The night continued on, with no one suspicious about what you and Kent had just pulled off. The boys were yelling about the game of euchre they were playing, earning a soft but playful eye roll from you. Kent kept a watchful eye on you, making sure you were comfortable, all while seamlessly blending in with his teammates.

As the night wore on, the laughter in the living room began to slow, and you could feel the weight of exhaustion settling over you. Between traveling all day and the energy it took to keep up appearances, your body was calling for rest. You smiled at the guys, pretending to stifle a yawn as you pushed your chair back from the table.

“I think I’m gonna call it a night,” you said, glancing around the room, “I’m pretty wiped from today.”

Sean, Cole, and Adam all gave you understanding looks, still focused on their cards and drinks. “You’ve earned it,” Sean said with a grin, “We’ll try not to be too loud and keep you up.”

“Good luck with that,” Adam teased, “Cole’s not exactly the quietest person you’ll ever meet.”

You laughed lightly as Cole smacked Adam upside the head. Standing up and giving Kent a quick look, your eyes communicated more than words could in that moment. He caught your glance immediately, knowing exactly what you meant. You needed him with you, but at the same time, you didn’t want to raise suspicion by him leaving too soon after you.

“I’ll be up in a bit,” he said, giving you a small, reassuring smile, “I’ll keep an eye on Cole and make sure he’s not too loud.”

You nodded, giving him a quick hug and offering the guys a wave before slipping away from the table. As you climbed the stairs, you could hear them still talking and laughing, their voices a soft hum in the background. Once you were upstairs, you exhaled a long breath of relief, the tension of the day finally easing as you made your way to your room.

You changed into your pajamas, feeling the weight of the day lifting as you settled onto the bed. It didn’t take long for Kent to join you. About 30 minutes later, you heard his familiar footsteps on the stairs, and the door quietly creaked open.

“Hey,” he said softly, closing the door behind him as he moved toward the bed, “You okay?”

You smiled, nodding as he sat down beside you, “Yeah, just tired. It was a lot today.”

Kent slid into bed next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest. “I know. You did so good today, pretty girl. No one suspects a thing.”

You chuckled softly, resting your head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calming you, “Thanks for helping me pull it off. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Kent kissed the top of your head, his voice low and comforting, “Of course, my love. We’re a team.”

The two of you stayed like that for awhile, the soft sounds of the ocean outside your window mixing with the distant murmur of voices from downstairs. It felt peaceful, the weight of the day finally lifting now that you were alone together.

“I can’t wait until they're here,” you whispered after a few moments of silence, your hand resting gently over your stomach.

Kent smiled against your hair, his arm tightening around you, “Me too. But until then, we’ll keep playing it cool for as long as we can. You get some rest, though, alright? You’ve had a long day.”

You nodded, feeling sleep begin to pull at you as Kent’s warmth and presence comforted you, “Goodnight, KJ.”

“Goodnight, Y/N/N,” he whispered, pressing another soft kiss to your forehead.

With Kent beside you, you felt safe and content, knowing that no matter what challenges the next days would bring, you had him by your side. As your eyes fluttered shut, the last thing you felt was Kent’s hand gently resting on your stomach, a quiet reminder that the two of you were in this together. Always.

a/n; would kj be a girl dad or a boy dad

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h0neysp1ce · 25 days

Note

Hii

Sorry if this is weird but please can I request some headcanons with Kaveh, Alhaitham and Diluc (Also if you don't write Diluc, Tighnari is good instead) where the Reader has extremely painful period cramps, like to the point where they need to vomit and can't move 🙏

Not at all! here you go 💚🫶

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ Summary: ↑ How does he take care of his s/o when they have very bad cramps?

Characters: Kaveh, Alhaitham, Diluc, Tighnari Tags: Established Relationship (all Separate) Fluff?? Constellation: Head canons Warning(s): Mentions of Period symptoms, nothing graphic reader can be read as gender neutral or Female (Had no clue which one to put so I put both) ˚୨୧⋆｡˚

A/N: I tried my best, apologies if Diluc's and Tighnari's Parts are shorter, and hopefully I went into enough detail as you asked , also I hope I titled it in the most un akward way possible, This was my first time writing something like this so I hope its not to bad ^^"

sorta Proof read (will edit later)

Word Count: 1243

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა

Kαʋҽԋ 🎨

This man is worried about you the moment you start not feeling great.

There's no need to feel embarrassed or ashamed; he understands that this is something you go through.

It’s nothing new, really. You've been open with him about your cramps being bad, and he understands that.

The first time this happened, it freaked him out because he thought something was wrong with you until you told him what it was, and he calmed down.

Kaveh: "Alright, I'm back with the heating pad and snacks."

You: "Kaveh, aren’t you supposed to be out working with a client today?"

Kaveh: "Oh no, I canceled all my work for today. I’m not leaving you alone and unattended."

You: "KAVEH!!? No, don’t worry about me. You should worry about your work. I know it's stressful and—"

Kaveh: "No, you're more important right now. Please, let me take care of you."

If you end up getting sick, like feeling like you’re about to vomit at any moment, he’ll be there with you, holding your hair back if you're actively getting sick, rubbing circles into your back, and staying with you in the bathroom until you feel better and can get back to bed.

Knowing that you can’t move much in this state, he'll take it upon himself to get you things. Want food? He’ll make you some. Want cuddles? He’ll gladly cuddle you.

He’ll have medicine ready for you along with a glass of water and a heating pad.

This man pampers you 100%.

It pains him to see you hurting and not feeling your best. You won’t see it, but he tends to have a frown on his face when you're hurting. He’s doing everything he can, but he can’t take your pain away completely, and it makes him sad.

He’d take away the pain and discomfort from you if he could.

Most of the time is spent cuddling. It doesn’t matter to him; whatever makes you most comfortable and relieves at least some of your pain is what matters to him.

He’ll kiss your face all over, along with some hand kisses, giving positive affirmations that you’re going to get through it, that it’s going to be okay, that you’re very strong, and that it’s only temporary.

His voice goes soft when talking to you, running a hand gently through your hair. He’ll be looking at you often, always asking if you're alright or if you need anything.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა

Aʅԋαιƚԋαɱ 📚

He’s read plenty of books to know what you’re going through and the best treatments for it.

He knows what it is without even having to ask you, as you’re wrapped around the toilet suffering.

He’ll sit with you and wait until you feel slightly well enough to get back to resting.

He will be honest with you and say that he doesn’t mind or care; there’s no shame or embarrassment. It’s a normal thing you go through.

If you let him, he’ll use his hands to place them on your abdomen. He has warm hands, and he’ll keep them there if it helps relieve the pain and discomfort, even just a little bit.

He’ll pull off his cape and put it on you if that helps comfort you in some way.

If you’re lying down, he’ll make sure to pull you closer. Usually, he doesn’t like being so close, but he’s doing this for you because he cares.

You: "Alhaitham, am I burdening you?"

Alhaitham: "I've told you multiple times already that you’re not a burden. You just need help and assistance right now, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Now go back to sleep." (says this while reading a book)

He’ll carry you or pick you up and take you places since moving by yourself is a no-go.

He’ll be reading a book while you lay with him. In reality, he’s keeping an eye on you, not reading a page of that book, just pretending.

This man would take the pain away from you in a heartbeat if he could.

He’ll be with you the entire time through this tough period.

He’ll make sure you take your medicine every few hours as directed.

In a modern AU, he’d likely turn on a movie or something for you, and you two would stay in bed mostly. He’ll also get you anything you need, don’t worry.

He’s still able to do his job remotely from home as the Akademiya's Grand Scribe. What, did you think this man was going to work while you weren’t feeling your best? Nope! He’s going to take care of you because that’s what partners do.

Even if he shows little affection normally, he’ll make sure to give you some during this time.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა

Dιʅυƈ 🍷

He’s more than aware when he wakes up and finds you not up, as you’re usually up before him.

He’ll ask you, and when you confirm his suspicions, he’ll grab some things (food, whatever you want if you just ask him).

He’ll also make a quick trip to the Tavern and have someone take over for him for a couple of days since he’s going to focus on you right now.

If you allow him, he’ll heat up his hands with his Pryo Vision and place them on your abdomen to ease your cramps slightly. If you’re feeling sick at any point, just tap on him or signal him, and he’ll make sure you get to the bathroom.

He’ll always take one of your hands, pepper kisses all over, and look at you while the two of you are in bed as you relax.

This man is a gentleman (all the men are gentlemen).

Your well-being is a main priority for him.

He’ll shower you with affection and pamper you lots.

He’ll always talk with you and explain that if you need anything at all, just tell him. It’s no bother nor burden. He’ll always assure you that you’re his partner and that he cares about you, giving plenty of reassurance if you need it.

All his duties will be resumed once you’re feeling better completely, so don’t worry about him being behind or anything. He still manages things remotely from Dawn Winery.

Diluc: "Please do tell me if you need anything, anything at all."

You: "Of course I will, Diluc. I love you."

Diluc: "Love you too."

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა

Tιɠԋɳαɾι 🌻

He’ll brew up some tea or have you drink a glass of water first when you confirm with him that it’s that time.

He has plenty of medicine and herbs on hand to ease your cramps and maybe the nausea caused by them.

He’ll let you have snacks but will also make sure you have balanced meals, going for the healthy approach.

Don’t be afraid of your mood changes or swings; he understands. He’s not going to be mad if you end up snapping at him.

He’ll try to limit his job as a Forest Ranger so he can keep an eye on you and take care of you.

The first time it happened, he thought you’d come down with some sort of sickness until you told him what was happening. He understood and went out of his way to help you (though he did end up going on a ten-minute ramble about what you already knew and didn’t need to hear).

If you have back pain, he’ll rub your back for you. If you’re feeling any other discomfort, he’ll do whatever he can to help.

He also tends to give you face kisses and affection. He’s a cuddle person and doesn’t mind you being clingy (none of the men mind you being clingy).

Tighnari: "Now remember what I told you, [Name]?"

You: "Tighnari, we’ve been over this five times already." sigh

Tighnari: "I just need to make sure you’re retaining the information."

You: "This is going to take a while."

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x you #fluff #alhaitham #kaveh x reader #tighnari x y/n #tighnari x reader #genshin kaveh #kaveh x y/n #kaveh x you #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x reader #h0neysp1ce #gender neutral reader #female reader

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narraboths · 11 months

Note

i'd like to think you could just walk into a diner in national city and see supergirl (costume and all, no fucks given) and lena luthor making out like teenagers in a corner booth

[Ao3]

The first time Supergirl comes to The Intergalactic, she’s thrown straight through its glass doors by a giant space lizard.

It’s really not how Ellie imagined meeting the city’s superhero. It’s not that she thought she’d actually ever meet Supergirl, least of all at work. Tucked away in a side-street near National City University and surviving in a cramped space, with minimal staff, and decor left from the beginning of the Space Age, The Intergalactic mostly sees harried college students and late-night party-goers in need of some fuel. Alien attacks and billowing capes are usually not on the menu.

She has no time to be disappointed by the circumstances of their chance meeting, though. She cannot feel anything beyond absolute terror, really, given the giant space lizard that just made the Girl of Steel demolish their sleepy burger joint’s entrance.

But then, Supergirl climbs back to her feet as she always does, shoulders squared, arms raised, ready to fight. She winces a little at the damage, shooting an apologetic smile towards Ellie before she’d fly up up and away, dragging the lizard into the sky with her. The sight of it is so fucking cool that for a second, Ellie is even distracted from the absolute wreckage around her.

(Then, her shoes almost catch fire and she’s brought back to the cold, hard, rubble-covered ground of reality.)

Later, when the news reports are loud with praise for another successful Super-save, and Ellie has managed to sweep up most of the broken glass and endured a hysterical call from her boss, Supergirl touches down in front of their doors again.

“Hello,” she waves with a little smile. She still has soot marks on her face, but she stands tall, impossibly dashing. “I’m very sorry for the commotion,” she says, before Ellie could even process the fact that the hero of National City is at her doorstep, again, engaging with her in casual conversation. “I just wanted to check in and see if everyone here was alright.”

“You just fought with an alien lizard,” Ellie blurts out, and Supergirl shrugs, in a hey, just another day on the job kinda way.

“Dracokardosian, actually. Doesn’t matter,” she adds quickly, then plants her hands on her hips. The Super-pose. It makes her shoulders seem even wider, the fabric of her suit straining against her upper arms. Ellie feels giddy. “Listen, I’ll make sure you’ll be reimbursed for the damage, but can I lend a hand with anything?”

“We’re fine, I think. It’s only the storefront that got hit– that you hit. No great damage, no injuries.” Supergirl smiles with palpable relief, and Ellie feels the need to ramble on, to keep her there, to bask in the glory of the superhero a little longer. The smell of still-hot frying oil wafting from the kitchen gives her the prompt before she’d even think about it. “Would you like a burger?”

Supergirl looks at her with a confused frown.

“Aren’t you guys closed up yet?”

“I mean, it’s not like we can really close right now,” Ellie shrugs, gesturing towards the gaping hole where the diner’s entrance used to be. It earns an amused little snort from Supergirl, just enough of a boost for Ellie to press on, heart beating in her throat. “Plus, you’re the only reason the place is still standing at all and I’d really like to be able to brag about having served Supergirl, like how many places get to do that?“

“Well, there’s this great patisserie on Lamarr Ave,” Supergirl says, forehead crinkling in concentration as she mulls over the answer. “And then my regular Chinese place, and this café in Paris–” She cuts herself off with a grin. “Okay, point taken. I would love one. But mind if I fix your door in the meantime?”

Ellie nods so vehemently that she gives herself a headrush.

“It’s a deal.”

Supergirl touches a hand to her earpiece, speaking low and incomprehensible before she’d speed away again and Ellie saunters off to the kitchen.

Inside, Jay is half-napping over the sink. He wakes from his slumber with dark, bleary eyes and stares in disbelief as Ellie rattles off the order, until she tells him it’s for Supergirl. He laughs first (yeah, and I’m the Virgin Mary), then takes a peek outside where Supergirl now busy welding the new doors using her heat vision, with a swarm of nanites hovering nearby for assistance. She stops for a second to wave at them: Ellie feels her heart fluttering and Jay gets all red and sweaty, rushing back to the kitchen and getting to it with such dedication as if the diner making it into the Michelin Guide depended on it.

By the time he’s done, The Intergalactic is sporting a brand new, shiny pair of doors, and Supergirl is sitting in a booth, excitedly drumming on a table with her fingers. Then, one burger swiftly turns into three, plus six sides of fries, two milkshakes, and some fried onions for good measure, Supergirl wolfing it all down at a speed fitting her superhuman appetite. She still finds the time to entertain Ellie and Jay with details of her fight between bites (his name is Spike, he was just scared), joking around with them with such geniality that makes her seem more like one of the nicer jocks from NCU, not a demigod in a supersuit. She’s sunshine personified. She compliments the food about half a dozen times (Jay blushes so hard that his face ends up looking like a ripe tomato), leaves a tip large enough to foot the bill twice, and even though it’s nearing midnight by the time she steps outside, Ellie feels a heavy pang in her heart to watch her leave. Supergirl smiles and waves them goodbye, and Ellie manages to run outside just as she takes off, yelling after her:

“See you again!”

She thinks she can see Supergirl wink at her before she speeds away.

The second time Supergirl visits the diner, it’s been well over a month since the space lizard incident, and Ellie has honestly given up on ever seeing the Girl of Steel in person again. It’s just past the mid-day rush, the diner mostly emptied out, the staff finally getting a breather. She’s busy cleaning the tables in the back when Lev walks up to her, poking her arm.

“Hey, am I tripping, or is that really Supergirl?”

Ellie turns around at lightning speed, just in time to catch Supergirl leaning against the empty counter with a friendly smile.

"Can I get a booth?” She asks, courteously ignoring the way Lev’s jaw is hanging wide open. “Your burgers smell so fantastic, my mouth has been watering all the way from Metropolis.”

Ellie’s shaking with so much nervous energy that she thinks she might start vibrating like the Flash.

“Make yourself comfortable wherever, I’ll be right with you!”

Supergirl is, well, just super.

Her visits to The Intergalactic are infrequent enough that the place doesn’t get hounded by paps, or Super-fans, or any villain of the week; arriving almost always in off-hours, when the place is almost as empty as the street outside. But her appearances are plenty enough for every single member of the staff to fall head over heels in love with her. She turns out to be just as ridiculously kind and nice as the CatCo fluff pieces would have the public believe: always praising the food, being as courteous with the staff as she is game to take selfies with them. She chats with Lev about their college studies, gives Ellie an air-lift when her car breaks down one night. She makes people smile just by walking through the door.

She’s the best part of the job.

When Supergirl turns up with Lena Luthor at her side one day, Ellie’s already so used to the outlandishness of their superhero regular that she’s only moderately shaken to see the most notorious public figure of National City striding into the diner with her.

She still almost bites down on her tongue and trips over, because holy shit, Lena Luthor is a sight. There’s always a touch of unreal about Supergirl’s appearance – maybe it’s the suit, maybe it’s the knowledge that she’s an alien, maybe it’s the fact that she always looks like she’s glowing from the inside. Her towering physique and artfully drawn features are awing, but they also seem just right for a superhero.

But Lena Luthor is only an ordinary human, and no ordinary human, all-powerful CEO or not, should look like a Greek goddess personified.

Ellie is so engrossed that she doesn’t even notice at first how Supergirl’s hand is resting on the small of Miss Luthor’s back, how they’re standing so close that their shoulders brush together, Lena Luthor leaning just slightly against the hero.

“Quaint,” she murmurs, low and amused, and though there’s nothing unkind about it, Ellie’s suddenly very aware of how pristine she looks in the middle of their greasy little diner. (Shit, her clothes must be worth more than the whole place.) But then, before she could get flustered, Supergirl snorts, bumping Miss Luthor’s shoulder with a grin.

“Don’t knock it till you try it.”

Their rapport is so charming that at first, it doesn’t even register with Ellie how downright smitten Lena Luthor’s smile is in response to Supergirl’s teasing.

Lena Luthor turns out to be super in her own ways. She’s more reserved than Supergirl, more guarded about her appearances, too, but disarmingly nice all the same. The tabloid headlines screaming ice queen and megalomaniac seem more and more ridiculous with every visit – there’s very little that says Mad Luthor about the small, overworked young woman who makes a point of asking about her day and leaves large enough tips that they can refit the whole kitchen with it and fix up the back room.

They keep odd hours those days, though, popping in for early morning coffees, or late, late night snacks. They share a plate more often than not, and the sight of Supergirl stealing a bite off of Lena Luthor’s fork becomes somewhat of a regular occurrence. (In no particular order, so does the following: Lena Luthor’s head resting on Supergirl’s shoulders, eyes fluttered shut; Supergirl leaning forward a little so Lena Luthor can press a goodbye kiss to her cheek before the superhero would fly off with a grin; Lena Luthor wiping some grease from the corner of Supergirl’s mouth with an indescribably fond smile).

It starts feeling like something that’s just meant to be.

Ellie doesn’t know whether it’s their first kiss or not when she witnesses it.

She’d never want to pry, either. It’s only by accident that she sees it happen at all. But she does see it, late one night, when Supergirl and Miss Luthor are huddled together in one of the booths in the back.

They look a little tired now – Supergirl’s cape is half off her shoulder, Lena Luthor’s hair let down and a touch messy, jarringly for her usually so put-together appearance – but sweet, too, as they always do, and utterly enamored. Supergirl’s hand is cradling Lena’s chin, Lena’s hands are buried in her golden mane, their lips pressing together gently, both of them smiling radiantly, lost in their own world. Then Lena presses forward a little, pushing Supergirl against her seat, and Ellie turns away with a burning face and starts scrubbing a table so hard that she risks putting a hole through the damn thing, trying to pretend she didn’t hear the breathless, overjoyed laugh echoing through the empty room.

It is, strictly speaking, not an issue that National City’s power couple has picked your place of work to be their makeout spot. Supergirl’s still the nicest person alive and Miss Luthor’s tipping habits have only grown more generous. They just take the booth that’s the farthest in the back, Ellie tries not to bother them too much, and if someone catches a glimpse of a red cape or a striking jawline, an emphatic glare and Just be cool, man usually does the trick.

Heroes, they’re just like us.

#Anonymous #supercorp #supercorp fic #my fic #anon you've probably literally sent this three years ago and this is what i am like as a person. if ur still out there: hi

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navybrat817 · 11 months

Text

See Through You

Pairing: Dark!Nick Fowler x Female Reader Summary: You head to a carnival with your best friend and get more than you bargained for when your handsome neighbor bumps into you. Word Count: Almost 4.8k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, NONCON/DUBCON, unprotected vaginal sex, semi-public sex, choking, mirror sex, possessive behavior, mentions of stalking, breaking and entering, threat of violence and implied violence (not against the reader), Nick Fowler (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Fix #8 Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! Special thanks to @maskedmistress87 who suggested dark!Nick with mirror and choking and @sgt-seabass and @tumblin-theworldaway for spitballing. ❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @buckets-and-trees (thanks for the feedback and help!), but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was your best friend's idea to wear costumes to the carnival. Though it wasn't Halloween just yet, it was a good way to get into the spooky holiday spirit. You weren't sure why you decided on a Red Riding Hood costume, but the cape would keep you somewhat warm if it got too cold. So would the stockings. You even got a basket purse so you could carry your things around and keep in theme with the outfit.

If you were lucky, you'd find yourself a big, bad wolf to play with.

After adjusting the cape around your neck, you spritzed yourself with your favorite perfume and carefully set the bottle on your vanity. You always set it to the right of your jewelry box. Strangely, it wasn't in its usual spot the last few days. Just like your robe wasn't yesterday. You swore you set it on the left hook, but when you got out of the shower it was on the right.

It would’ve been easy to write it off as a roommate messing with you, but you lived alone.

“I really need to stop watching scary movies before bed,” you mumbled as you went to your dresser and shut your underwear drawer. It was ajar a few days ago. Had you left your place in such a hurry that you forgot to close it?

The ding of your phone pulled you from your thoughts, giving yourself one more look in your vanity mirror before you went to get the device.

“Two minutes away!” Kiki messaged you.

There was a slight chill in the air as you went outside to wait, but that wasn't why you shivered. Every once in a while, you had the feeling someone was watching you. Like a pair of eyes following your every move. It didn't make sense. There was nothing about you worth watching.

It didn't stop a chill from sliding down your spine as you looked over your shoulder every time you left your home. Or when you thought about the random things that moved around your place. As far as you knew, no one knew where your spare key was. You lost sleep wondering if some creep snuck in. If someone did break in, they didn’t take anything.

But if someone went into your place and didn't steal anything, what did they want?

“Nice costume.”

You jumped at the sound of a familiar voice, almost dropping your phone as you turned toward it. “Nick, you scared me.”

“Sorry,” he smiled, but didn't sound sorry at all.

“Sure you are,” you smiled back, your heart slowing to a steady beat again as you wondered how he managed to sneak up on you.

Nick Fowler moved into your neighborhood a few months ago. He usually kept to himself, but made it a point to give you a nod when he was going to or from work. While you wouldn't say you were friends, he was friendly enough with you and didn't bother anyone. He even helped you fix your cable when it went out some time back. As far as neighbors went, he was a good one.

And a handsome one.

The man turned quite a few heads when he unloaded boxes from the moving truck and you didn’t blame anyone for looking his way. With his athletic build, he carried the heavy items with ease. He had the bluest eyes you’d ever seen and his short, dark hair only helped to make them stand out more. The scruff surrounding his lips and along his chin looked long enough to leave a delicious burn if it ever touched your skin. You hardly ever saw him smile at anyone, except you. And he smirked at you on more than one occasion.

Like he had a secret he was itching to tell you.

“You okay?” He asked, taking a step closer. “You seem a little jumpier than usual.”

“Just a little tired. Haven't slept well the last few nights.”

“Is everything okay?”

You debated telling him what was going on since he sounded concerned, but decided against it. You didn't need to burden him with that. Besides, nothing was wrong. Just the spooky season getting under your skin. “Oh, yeah. Everything's fine. I’ll probably end up crashing when I get back.”

“Well, I'm here if you need anything,” he said after a moment. Those blue eyes of his meticulously looked over your costume. “So, you have a fun night planned?”

You almost tightened your cape around your body to hide from his gaze. Not that his attention wasn't flattering. It was kind of nice. Plus he was single as far as you knew and you never noticed him bringing anyone around. “Yeah. Going out with a friend."

Nick frowned a little. “He isn't wearing a wolf costume, is he?”

You swore there was a hint of jealousy in his tone, but you were probably imagining it. “No, she isn't,” you said, smiling as his shoulders relaxed.

“Well, it’s a great costume. You honestly look good enough to eat,” he said, chuckling a bit when heat crawled up your neck. “Sorry. I hope that didn’t sound bad.”

“No, don’t be sorry. I appreciate the compliment,” you said, both of you smiling as the warmth continued to move up to your face. “Do you have any plans?”

“I may watch a movie,” he said, running his fingers through his short hair. You tried not to stare at the veins in his hands or the way his sweater hugged his muscular frame. “It's too bad you can't join me.”

Your eyebrows shot up, not expecting his offer. Was it an actual offer? He hadn't invited you over to his place before. “Is it a scary movie? I like them, but sometimes they…”

“Scare you?” he guessed, his smile sympathetic as you nodded. “Well, you don't have to worry about any bad guys with me around. I can keep you safe.”

You smiled softly before Kiki pulled up to the curb. “Maybe another time?”

“Yeah, maybe,” he said, seemingly disappointed as he nodded toward the car. “Have fun at the carnival.”

Your smile slipped a little as he walked toward his place. “Thanks,” you called out, quickly getting into the car.

“Hey! Isn't that your super hot neighbor?” Kiki asked as you buckled yourself in.

“Yeah,” you replied, looking in the mirror as she drove off. Nick had stopped before he went inside and watched as the two of you drove away. It made you shiver. “He kind of invited me over to his place.”

“What?! And you're in here with me?” she asked, lightly smacking your arm. “You should've gone with him or invited him to come with us. You could’ve gotten laid tonight.”

At the reminder of your recent lack of sex life, you sighed. There was nothing wrong with having fun, but you wanted a bit more than that. Not like anyone had shown interest in you as of late. There was the guy who lived across the street who flirted with you weeks back, but he pretty much avoided contact with you the next day.

You wondered if he moved out since you hadn’t seen him since.

“You were already on your way and I didn’t want to just invite him,” you said, loosening your grip on your purse when your fingers began to ache. “It's weird though. He told me to have fun at the carnival, but I don't remember ever telling him I was going.”

How did he know?

“Maybe he guessed. Or maybe you mentioned it and forgot. I mean, you did say you haven't been sleeping well lately.”

“That's my own fault,” you said.

“Well, lack of sleep could be messing with your memory. And may I remind you that I told you to stop watching scary movies? They always make you jumpy,” she said, glancing over at you as her smile faded. Nick even noticed your jumpiness. “Look, we can skip this and go tomorrow. I don't mind.”

You shook your head and brushed the strange feeling off. She was right. Those films made you paranoid and she didn't need to deal with that. “No, it's okay. We deserve some fun.”

“You want some real fun, go visit your neighbor when you get back. He looks like he knows how to fuck.”

“I'm sure he does,” you giggled. You had no doubt about that. “But I'm not going to find out tonight.”

“You might. Who knows? He may even show up at the carnival to hunt you down.”

You both laughed, your smile bright and happy again. No one was going to hunt you down. No one was watching you. Your life wasn't some creepy movie. You just needed to relax and have a good time.

The carnival was in full swing, booming with cheerful music and shouts from people on the brightly lit rides. As you followed Kiki though, you kind of regretted not taking Nick up on his offer to hang out. Not even thirty minutes after you arrived, your best friend bumped into a hot guy. Literally bumped into him and almost spilled her drink on his shirt. Both of them had hearts in their eyes and they had been attached at the hip since. While you were glad she was having a good time, you were starting to feel a bit like a third wheel.

You also had that impression that someone was watching you again. Your skin prickled as you looked to the left and right, wishing the feeling would go away. It was silly. No one was looking at you. Everything was fine.

“Hey,” you said, tapping Kiki on her arm as she laughed at some corny joke. “I think I may explore on my own a bit.”

Her face fell as she looked between you and her new beau. “You sure? We can-”

“I'm sure. Really,” you assured her. She deserved to have a good time and would've encouraged you to do the same if you bumped into a guy. “I'll text you in a bit so we can meet back up?”

“Or I can give you a ride home.”

Surprise was written all over your face as you spun around. That was the second time Nick made you jump today, an amused smile on his face as you held your chest. He was in the same outfit you saw him in earlier, but he now had a sticker on the left side of his chest that stated, “Hi! My name is NICK”.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, his smile immediately fading as you took a breath. Your tone was a lot sharper than you intended. “I'm sorry. You just scared me again.”

Nick peered at you before he sighed. “Didn't mean to scare you or eavesdrop. I got bored watching the movie and decided to check this place out,” he said, glancing down at his feet for a moment. “I tried waving a minute ago, but I guess you didn't see me.”

You felt like a bitch. Maybe that was why you thought someone was watching you. It really was all in your head. “Sorry, I didn't see you.”

“Sorry I scared you again,” he said.

“It's okay. Really.”

“Well, neighbor, since you're here, you two should hang out,” Kiki suggested, giving you an encouraging smile.

What did you have to lose? “Would you like to join me?”

Your neighbor's smile was back on his handsome face. “Yeah, I'd like that.”

Kiki nudged you forward, moving you closer to Nick as your stomach flipped. “Text me when you leave or if you still need a ride.”

“Don't worry. I'll take care of her," Nick promised as she walked off with her new guy on her arm, leaving the two of you alone. “Lead the way."

“Okay," you said, maintaining a bit of distance as you walked beside him. You had no clue if you wanted to play games or go on a ride. “Anything in particular you want to do?”

“You.”

Your head twisted in his direction so quickly you almost hurt yourself. “What?”

“I said ‘boo’,” he said, pointing in front of him. The two-story, brightly lit funhouse had a bunch of random words on the panels, including “boo”. Why did you think he said “you”? God, you needed to get a grip. “Should we do that? It could be fun.”

With a small laugh, you nodded. “Fun in a funhouse,” you said, stopping when the carnival worker at the entrance held up his hand.

“I’m about to go on my break. Come back in thirty minutes.”

“Oh. Okay,” you said, shrugging a little at Nick. Maybe you could find something else to do.

Nick, however, didn’t budge. “That’s quite a break. Tell you what,” he said, taking out his wallet and pulling out a bill. The worker’s eyes lit up when he saw the amount. “Why don’t you take your break and let us go in anyway? We won’t cause any trouble.”

“Stay the whole time for all I care,” the guy said, taking the money with a toothy grin and letting both of you go past to walk up the steps. “Enjoy!” he added, roping it off with a “closed” sign before he walked away.

“Go ahead,” Nick urged, waiting for you to finish going up the stairs first.

The normally whimsical music sounded strange to your ears. Maybe it felt spooky since you knew you were the only two that would be inside. Or maybe it was because the movie you watched a couple of nights ago took place in a funhouse. A group of teens went in. Nobody made it out. No, this wouldn't be anything like that.

“We really could’ve just come back,” you said, holding onto the railing as the stairs shifted back and forth. You didn’t hear Nick follow right away. Glancing back, you swore you saw him check out your ass. Not that he could see much thanks to the cape.

“You might have decided to leave before we made it back this way,” he said as you came across a spinning barrel. Just staring at it made you slightly dizzy. “Not that it would’ve been a bad thing if we left since Kiki ditched you so quickly.”

“She didn’t ditch me,” you argued as you stepped into the barrel. The sound of a laughing clown filled your ears as you did your best to walk in a straight line. “She deserves some fun,” you added, regaining your balance once you stepped onto a normal floor again.

Nick followed you so silently that you didn’t realize he was right behind you until his lips touched your ear. “So do you.”

Hot air shot out of the ceiling above your head with a piercing whistle, giving you an excuse to jump away as your heart pounded. His eyes sparkled in amusement at your reaction. “Like I said, fun in the funhouse,” you teased, putting your hands along the walls as the hallway grew narrow. It was still large enough for you to squeeze through.

“Especially since we have the place to ourselves,” he reminded you.

A shiver rolled down your spine. You wondered exactly what kind of fun he wanted to have and if you should’ve chosen your words more carefully. “You know,” you began as you stumbled into a Hall of Mirrors, frowning as you realized there wasn’t an open door or space to move through. Which mirror did you have to push to get to the next room? “You didn’t say why you were wearing a nametag.”

“It's my costume," he said, tilting his head like the answer was obvious.

You glanced around to see if any of the mirrors had any smudges, anything to give away which direction to go. They were all clean. “And what exactly are you supposed to be?"”

He smirked as he met your reflection in one of the mirrors. “I’m dressed as your neighbour who’s gonna fuck you until you can’t remember anything but my name."

You nearly fell into the mirror and he quickly caught your arm to keep you upright, the grip a bit tighter than you expected. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me," he shrugged a little as he stepped closer. “Almost wore a wolf costume so I could chase you down. The subtle hints I've dropped aren’t working, so I might as well spell it out for you.”

You tried to figure out if he was joking or not. Your reaction was to giggle. A nervous, soft laugh that seemed to wipe his smirk away. “Is that why you came here tonight? You were hoping you'd fuck me?” you asked, remembering your earlier talk with Kiki. “I don’t even remember telling you I was coming here.”

He tapped his ear. “I heard you on the phone with your friend.”

“I was in my bedroom when we made those plans. There’s no way you could've…” you trailed off, a sense of dread pooling in your stomach as he stared at you. Did his eyes always have a dangerous glint to them? “Nick, how did you hear that phone call?”

“Take a wild guess, sweetheart.”

You swallowed a little. “It’s you, isn’t it? You’ve been messing with me.”

It sounded crazy to your ears and you didn’t want to believe it because blaming it on irrational fear was easier. But the single, unashamed nod he gave you almost made you crumble. “I never told you what I do for work, but I’m good with setting up bugs and cameras. And such a sweet thing like you living so close, I couldn't help myself,” he explained casually, like he wasn’t admitting to something completely messed up. “You make such pretty noises when you touch yourself.”

“You watched me,” you whispered, your head spinning when he smirked. He watched you in your intimate, private moments. What else did he do?

“Knocking out your cable gave me the perfect excuse to get inside your place without raising suspicion. You never would've invited me over otherwise. Though you really should be more careful where you keep your spare key. Made it way too easy for me to make a copy.”

You held your stomach to keep from getting sick. So many thoughts raced through your mind as he advanced on you. Why had you ignored your instincts? Did your attraction to him partially blind you? “Why?”

“Because I wanted to. Because you’re mine. Take you pick,” he said, wrapping a hand around your neck before you could move back. “You have no idea how tempted I was to break down your door and fuck you after watching the footage. Or every time I snuck into your place. I even moved things around in the hope you’d turn to me and let me 'help you' figure out what was happening, but you didn’t. You kept your distance. Your little ‘hard to get’ act was cute, but a man can only take so much.”

Each word he spoke added a new layer of dread and alarm. He squeezed a little when you tried to pry his hand away, tears blurring your vision. Shouting wouldn’t do you any good, but it didn’t stop the screams in your mind. “I wasn't playing hard to get. I liked you,” you managed to say.

“And you weren't trying to lead that flirty neighbor on either, but you're too sweet for your own good. Don't worry. I took care of him. He'll never bother you again,” he smirked as your blood ran cold. What did he do? “Or anyone else for that matter.”

The man was insane. “Nick, you-”

He cut you off when he pressed his soft and warm lips against your mouth. You were two seconds away from biting into his bottom lip when he spun you around and shoved your front against the closest, normal mirror. It didn’t budge. “I’m tired of waiting for you to come around,” he said, yanking your cape off. “Tired of just watching when I know you belong to me.”

You froze, unable to fight or yell when he shoved your costume up. No one would hear you over the sounds of the carnival and the worker running the attraction wasn't close by. Why weren’t you fighting? Why couldn’t you do anything to stop him?

“Nick, let’s talk,” you tried to reason. “Please, you don’t have to do this.”

The sound of him tearing your underwear away made the first tear fall. “We're past the talking stage,” he snarled, kicking your legs apart before you whimpered. You weren’t sure if it was the sound that softened his gaze or the sight of your tears. “I’m not going to hurt you, sweetheart. That’s the last thing I want to do.”

His words did nothing to soothe you when he undid his pants. “You are hurting me,” you whispered. He hurt you by bringing fear into your life when he could've just asked you out.

“Am I?” he asked, parting your opening with his fingers. He chuckled darkly as he pushed a digit in with no warning. “Then why are you so wet?”

You whined in denial, but he was right. Arousal trickled along your thighs, your hole aching with the need for him to fill you with something larger than his finger. What was wrong with you? “No,” you moaned.

“Don’t deny me,” he growled, nosing along your neck before he bit down. You yelped, the sharp pain making you tighten around his finger. “Oh, sweetheart, we’re going to have so much fun together.”

Your body betrayed your will as he played with you and you were thankful momentarily when he pulled out. The relief was short-lived when you looked over your shoulder, just in time to watch him unzip his pants and take his hard cock out of his underwear. He’d break you with his size. “You can’t, please.”

“Yes, I can,” he said as he pressed the head of his cock against your sopping wet entrance. “Now be good and take what I give you.”

“Don't-”

“The only thing I want to hear you say is my name. Let’s let your pussy tell me how much you want me.”

You screamed as he pushed inside, your walls burning as you tried to accommodate for the size of him. He hadn’t prepped you nearly enough, though your arousal took some of the pain away. He didn’t pause to give you a chance to adjust either, as if the wet sound of you sucking his cock in gave him permission to take what he believed belonged to him.

“Fuck, your pussy feels better than I imagined,” he groaned, your resolve cracking as you opened your eyes. He forced you to meet his gaze in the mirror and you watched in horrid fascination as he took you. The surrounding glass showed every angle of his claim, your reality becoming more and more distorted. He surrounded you. Consumed you. “And it’s all mine.”

You made a small sound as you braced your hands on the glass, forced to feel every drag of his cock. The more he moved, the more you tried to grind your hips back against his. It was shameful for you to like it, humiliating that you wanted to get off because of him. It was as if your body no longer belonged to you and maybe it never did. Otherwise, why would you want this?

“When I get you home, I’ll take my time. Get you addicted to my cock,” he grunted, smiling at the glazed look in your eyes. “I’ll record it. Make you see how much you love it.”

“Nick,” you gasped when he put his hand around your throat again, a silent command not to close your eyes or look away. You moved a hand to his wrist when it became harder to breathe. He loosened his grip enough for you to inhale and slid his hand down to your chest, squeezing one of your breasts with a moan. You moaned, too.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Look at you. Look at us,” he groaned as he thrust faster. The hand on your chest moved back to your throat when he reached under your skirt. “See how perfect we are together? How well you take my cock? You know you belong to me.”

The sloppy sounds of your cunt got louder as he found your clit and rubbed it quickly. It was almost too much, but you craved more. What was the point of denying him when your pussy kept trying to pull him back in? Why fight the inevitable pleasure when your body surrendered to him?

You weren’t sure how much time had passed and it didn’t matter. You were lucky to remember your own name. He was fucking you dumb and you wondered why the fear faded. You knew it would return when he finished, but you felt ecstasy for now.

“My fucking slut. Never letting you go,” he said, pinching the bundle of nerves with a smirk as you breathed his name. The familiar twist of pleasure grew and his name was the only word you said as dark indulgence flooded your veins. You were going to come and there was nothing you could do to stop it. “So come for me. Right. Fucking. Now.”

The rough demand made your fluttering hole squeeze around him almost painfully. You struggled to hold back, but the release washed over you like a tidal wave. All you could do was helplessly pant as you trembled, his soaked cock thrusting still so he could join you in sweet bliss. And you wanted it. You wanted him to come inside you.

You could hate yourself later for wanting it so badly.

“You. Are. Mine,” he growled, his name falling from your lips as he tipped over the edge. You spasmed around him still as he finished, your cunt filled to the brim. “Mine.”

You gasped for air as he buried his face in your neck, your body shaking as you pressed your forehead against the glass. Your mouth opened, but no words came out. Maybe once you had the strength you'd run. Scream. Cry.

“Look at me,” Nick breathed, his lips touching your pulse. You blinked some of the haze from your eyes as you lifted your head, your heart still racing out of control. Minus the darkened tint in his cheeks, he looked normal. Not a hair out of place. Like he hadn't forced himself on you. “Didn't have to be like this, but it would've happened no matter what."

You nodded, believing him. He took you in the middle of the funhouse without a care of getting caught. He got what he wanted.

“And don't even think about running away from me or I'll chase you down,” he added.

Feeling his spend slide out of you as he pulled out helped the reality of the situation sink in. He took you and you didn't stop him. “I won't,” you answered in a small voice you didn't recognize as he tucked himself away and fixed his pants.

“Good,” he smiled, retrieving your cape from the ground and wrapping it back around you. “Because I'd hate for anything to happen to Kiki. Such a nice coincidence that some guy bumped into her, isn't it?”

You shook your head quickly, tears forming in your eyes again. “No, don't hurt her,” you begged. If what he said about your neighbor was true…

Nick cooed as he framed your face and gently kissed your lips. It was so tender and you almost believed he was capable of being good. Almost. “Be mine and I won't.”

He said it casually, but his eyes told you not to defy him. “I'm yours,” you whispered.

“Good girl,” he said, pulling a hand away to check his watch. “Time's almost up. Let's go.”

You had a hard time moving your feet, but he put an arm around you to help. It was like you were drunk, unable to see or think straight as he quickly found which mirror to exit through. You just wanted to go home, but he took your safe haven away.

Was Nick Fowler your villain or was he an antihero for doing whatever it took to get you?

“Don't worry. We'll let Kiki know you got home safely. You can even tell her I asked you out tonight,” he said, flashing a smile at you that made him look like he'd take a bite out of you. “And when we get back to my place, I'll get you addicted to my cock like I promised.”

So, what do we think? Love and thanks for reading! 🧡

Masterlist ⚓ Nick Fowler Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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suzukiblu · 4 months

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WIP excerpt for Jan behind the cut; mistaken identities and interdimensional refugees. ( chrono || non-chrono )

And they must have a Clark. Kon can’t imagine how they couldn’t.

He can’t imagine how anywhere couldn’t, if it came to it.

Yeah, that’s a healthy thought, Kon reflects resignedly as Alfred shuts the car door and goes around to the driver’s side to slip into his own seat. Alfred starts the engine and pulls out of his parking spot, and Jon nervously grips Kon’s sleeve. He twists his wrist to grab the kid’s hand, and immediately ends up with Jon pressed completely against his side and resuming his earlier sniffling buried against his bicep. It’s whatever, obviously; Kon figures if the kid cries on the suit a bit, he can just get it . . . dry-cleaned, he guesses? Probably this is a dry-cleaning thing?

God, who knows, Tim got the damn thing for him. It might need to be cleaned by a hyper-specific radiation or fresh water from snowmelt on the Alps or a custom-designed spray from the Batcave, for all he friggin’ knows.

“Hello, Mr. Kent,” Alfred says as soon as the aid workers on the street have directed the towncar out of the immediate area of the refugee camp, his voice wryly but politely amused, and Kon feels an immediate rush of relief. Thank fuck, yeah, okay. Not that he really thought Alfred of all people thought he was actually a version of Batman, just . . . yeah. Just–yeah. It’s a relief. “Dare I ask why you informed the aid workers that you were Master Bruce?”

“I did not, but I winked at a pretty lady while wearing a very expensive suit and holding a traumatized kid, so apparently some assumptions were made,” Kon admits sheepishly, and Alfred’s mouth quirks in the rearview mirror.

“Do tell,” he says.

“Please tell me Batman isn't gonna pull the ‘no outside capes in Gotham’ card over this,” Kon says, dragging a hand through his hair and slightly wrecking the carefully slicked-back style he had it in. At this point, he does not care. “My Batman knew I was in town.”

“Oh, did he?” Alfred asks, still seeming wryly amused.

“Mine too!” Jon blurts, straightening up a little as he leans back a bit from Kon. He keeps a hand on his arm, but Kon figures that’s no surprise. He’s a pretty familiar face, considering. Like, double-familiar, in a sense.

“Ah, yes,” Alfred says, glancing carefully at Jon in the rearview mirror. “I’m sorry, young man. May I inquire after your name?”

Well, shit, Kon thinks as Jon wilts immediately and tightens his grip on his sleeve, then buries his face in his bicep again. Not ideal, probably. At least, explaining Jon as a person is probably gonna be a whole thing, and not a thing the local Batman is gonna be thrilled to hear.

Could be worse, admittedly. Could be “oh, Lex Luthor cooked me up in a basement”.

Yeahhhhh. Well, at least Alfred actually recognized him, so apparently he does exist here. So like, at least they’ve only got to get through one of those explanations.

“Jon Kent,” Jon says quietly, and Alfred . . . pauses. Kon does not let himself wince or look guilty or anything even remotely similar. Look, he’d have forewarned them if he’d had the option, okay?

“I see,” Alfred says carefully. “May I inquire, young Mr. Kent, as to who your father might happen to be?”

“Clark Kent,” Jon says, his voice still quiet and grip on Kon’s sleeve probably at hydraulic-press levels by now. “And my mom's Lois Lane.”

“Ah,” Alfred says. “Please don't take this question the wrong way, young man, but would you happen to be adopted?”

“No,” Jon says, setting his jaw stubbornly.

“I see,” Alfred says. Kon–sighs, for lack of a better idea, and just wraps his arm around Jon.

“I got you, Jonno,” he says, trying to sound reassuring. He’s not as good at that as Clark is, which is immediately proven by Jon tearing up and just clinging to him, full super-strength and all. A less invulnerable version of him would definitely bruise.

And literally any baseline human would get their fucking spine crushed.

“I’m not dangerous,” Jon mutters. “And I’m not gonna hurt anybody. You know I wouldn't, right? I–I know you haven't had me yet in your reality, but–”

Wait.

What?

“–but I'm not bad, I wouldn't hurt anyone, I promise, you know you and Mom wouldn't ever have a kid who was bad!” Jon chokes past an almost-sob, and Kon’s stomach sinks like a rock.

Okay. Jon does not, in fact, have a version of him in his reality.

Fuck.

Also, apparently has some really concerning ideas about biological determinism and nature versus nurture and whatever else, but like, he’s like ten, that’s–normal, or whatever, that’s–

Fuck.

“Jon, kiddo, no, I’m not–” he tries, and then the car dashboard lights up with a low, melodious sound, and Alfred presses a button on the steering wheel.

“Report,” Batman’s voice says neutrally from the speakers, and Kon immediately winces.

Well, this is gonna go just great, isn’t it.

“Well, it seems Batman doesn't yet have to worry about an interdimensional territory dispute,” Alfred informs him dryly. “Superman, however . . .”

Fuck his entire fucking life, Kon thinks.

So much for not having to give both of the awkward explanations.

“. . . Kent,” Bruce says, sounding immediately exasperated and also way less “Batman”, which Kon wishes he could assume were a good sign. “Why the hell did you tell the aid workers you were me?”

#jan #wip: mistaken identities and interdimensional refugees

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demonicbaby666 · 7 months

Text

Territorial

One shot | Supergirl Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Supergirl

Pairing: Kara Danvers x fem!Reader

Genre: Smut

Words: 2.9k+

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, jealousy, fingering, semi-public sex

Summary: Attending an event with Kara seemed a good idea. It had never been an issue in the past, but when she returns from mingling to find you enjoying the company of another guest, things take an interesting turn.

A/n: I want to say that I've thoroughly proofread this, but I cannot because I am lazy and also not motivated enough to do that :)

Kara didn't want to leave you. On the drive over to the reporter's gala, you'd heard her say just that, even if you were the slightest bit distracted by how her muscles bulged under the sleeves of her blazer.

She knew you were no social butterfly and had sworn to stay by your side when you needed a breather from small talk and scheming questions—a hero even when she shed her cape. You'd tried to reason with her, explain you were not a child, that you'd be fine alone. Alas, it proved useless. She wasn't having it.

However, that was the drive over when Kara had yet to be faced with renowned reporters, endless opportunities for stories and the chance to fill a whole page, front and back, with media contacts. So, when the time came, you were proud to admit you succeeded in swaying your girlfriend to do all the things you knew she was most looking forward to with a "Please don't let me stop you. I had been wanting to check out the bar anyway."

You did receive a dejected look from Kara as she was dragged away, one that reminded you of a little lost pup. That wasn't entirely a pleasant sight, but when you arrived at a too-tall bar stool and peeked over your shoulder, you were happy to note Kara was lost in conversation. The twinkle in her eyes she only got when intrigue grew and questions were formed was bright as ever. She was utterly consumed. It was a happy sight. A sight that, mixed with alcohol, made your chest flush a little too hot for liking.

Time ticked by, and for a while, it was okay. You watched Kara move around, go from person to person, nursing your drink between glances and taking in the room decor. The thought of joining her did cross your mind but was quickly stored away when you realised how hard it would be to reach the blonde across the ocean of bodies. Better to sit tight and save yourself the trouble.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, the event hall grew too loud. Not loud from rowdy patrons or blasting music. The accumulation of too many polite voices and clattering sounds combined to form a monotonous hum was what was beginning to drive you crazy. You waited. And you waited. And you waited some more. You waited for as long as you could, feeling more and more how your cheeks began to burn until it got a little too much, and you found your way outside to the stone stairs of the grand entrance, heart beating a little too fast for your liking.

That was where Kara found you. She'd wrapped up her conversations as fast as possible, asking and answering rapid-fire questions, absorbing every bit of knowledge offered while keeping track of the time. It couldn't be helped that now and again, she lost herself in stories that she imagined would one day be hers. She knew you'd understand. But then, too much time had passed, and she knew it as she hurried over to the bar, already panicked about how best to apologise for leaving you alone for so long.

By the time she did find you, after discovering the bar vacant, her worries were gone, and Kara was joyous to finally be so close to you again that she could smell your perfume. The stories she'd heard were waiting on the tip of her tongue to be regurgitated, along with an apology kiss, which she had decided was the foolproof option on the walk over. However, when she turned a corner and finally saw your unmistakable figure, she did not expect to find you with company. More so, she did not expect a pristine blazer that was not hers to be wrapped around you, keeping you warm from the evening's light breeze.

Watching from a close distance, Kara could see it. She could hear it pierce her ears—the bitter sound of laughter. You were smiling, listening attentively to what this random woman spewed at you, and it drove Kara crazy, filled her veins with fire, and turned her knuckles white. She hated this part of herself, the wiry-clawed green-eyed monster that came out so often around you. She'd been pushing it down all evening, all week, hell, your whole relationship, whenever she saw someone's eyes linger on your figure too long. But this, whatever was happening between you and this woman, was, for some reason, Kara's last straw.

"It's freezing." She strode over, steps heavy, tone sharp as she announced her presence.

It was, in fact, not freezing, and you were about to mention that as you turned to greet Kara, but the second you saw her stony expression, you decided otherwise.

"Kara, it's so nice to finally meet you," the woman beside you said, extending her arm to the blonde with a warm, charismatic smile. "Andrea."

The reporter outright ignored the greeting, stared at Andrea with flared nostrils and then back to you, her eyes softening only a smidge. You hated to say it, even if it was just to yourself, but something about seeing Kara this way deeply affected you. Of course, you loved sweet Kara, the Kara that would never be able not to help, the Kara that left a trail of sunshine behind her as she walked, the Kara that giggled at double entendres, and that's what she said jokes. But this Kara, fierce, protective and territorial Kara, the Kara that would crack someone's neck if they looked at you the wrong way, throw them over the side of a building if they even thought to touch you, drove you mad with undying lust.

"Why are you out here?" your girlfriend asked, snapping you out of your daze. Her eyes grew smaller, and her lips thinned as she stared at the blazer still around your shoulders.

Sensing her hostility and heavy eyes, you got the hint. Well, it was less of a hint than a blaring alarm. Nonetheless, you understood. "I got a bit hot inside, that's all," you calmly answered, beginning to shrug off the satin jacket that seemed to be Kara's new adversary lest she burn a hole right through it.

"Nice seeing you, Andrea," Kara said dryly, sporting a sarky smile as she took the blazer off your shoulder and handed it back. "I'll be taking my girlfriend inside now."

With an arm hooked around your waist, you were ushered inside, unsure what the hell had just happened until it was too late to turn around and apologise for Kara's out-of-character behaviour.

"Did you have to be so rude?" you whispered. "She was only being nice."

Kara was indifferent, her face expressionless. "I thought you didn't want to socialise," she finally said, manoeuvring past groups of chattering clusters.

"She approached me. It would have been rude to ignore her," you tried to reason.

"The blazer?" Kara countered, nails digging into you so hard you felt them pierce the silk material of your dress, forcing you to choke down a whimper.

There were so many things you could have said, so many things you should have said. You could have given Kara one of the many valid reasons you had at your disposal. But no, you did nothing of the sort. Seeing Kara this pissed off, even if she was trying to hide the true extent of it, was absolutely divine, and you wanted it to last.

Leaning over to her ear, keeping up with her quick pace on your tippy toes, you sultrily whispered, "I was chilly, and she offered to keep warm."

Kara halted, standing stark still in the middle of a desolate hallway. You saw her jaw lock, the way her veins in her neck bulged. Her eyes, shining a scorching shade of blue, looked off into the distance, and that was when Kara truly lost herself to silent rage.

When her feet started moving again, no words were spoken. She only pushed you down the corridor and then to the left, each step growing more daunting as the woman beside you remained stoic. You started to consider that perhaps you had gone too far.

"Kara, I-" you tried but were cut off by the force of Kara roughly shoving you inside a side room. With no warning, your body was slammed against the back of the door, forcing it shut with a bang that echoed in your ears, its remnants reduced to a faint buzz.

Kara had kept her hands on your waist, body a safe distance away as her azure eyes roamed your face in rapid intervals, eventually landing on your lips.

"Do you need a reminder?" she snapped.

Fidgeting and momentarily adverse to maintaining eye contact, you looked around at the collection of coats, studying all the colours, all the various items poking out of pockets, and the occasional umbrella brought in by the wary, inherently failing to answer Kara's vague question.

The quiet grew to be biting; its teeth gnawed away at your confidence until breathing became almost impossible. Thankfully, the room itself was chilled, air circulating well enough to ensure that dust particles and the distinct smell of dampness would not stick to the fabric. Only two windows painted the room, both of which were located to your right, one jammed shut with rust and debris, the other slightly ajar. And as grating seconds passed like hours, and eyes locked onto you, hot breath rained down on you, the timid breeze that began to sweep in through the small crack of that old window became your new best friend.

You focused on it as you looked to the floor and watched your toes curl. You heard its high-pitched whistles alongside the squeaking leather of your shoes, and you felt its light fingers caress your flushed cheeks just enough to dull your panic to a manageable seven.

Of course, this did not last long. Your senses eventually found you, and you remembered the lingering question dancing in the air and the unhappy blonde who deserved an apology. But it was too late. For the second time that evening, you concluded that you'd pushed your girlfriend too far.

Your punishment was a hand coiling around your throat, calloused fingers threatening to mark you with blotchy bruises but not daring to squeeze hard enough to hurt. Beneath the firm grip, you closed your eyes, frustrated with how painstakingly annoying it was to have something so wrong feel so good. So fucking good you were struggling to hold in a moan.

"Do you need a reminder that you're mine?" Kara calmly asked, fractionally squeezing just that little bit tighter to force out a strained whimper. Her pupils were blown wide, dark whirls of something foreign polluting the bright shine of her irises.

Distant music seeped in, filling the silence between rapid breaths. Eyes sharpened their focus on one another, studying the new hues of lust, committing the new palettes to memory for lonely nights. Then came the slip—your submission offered with one last shuddering breath and the slow close of your eyelids, and Kara, sharp as a whistle, acted accordingly. Her lips, soft yet bruising, devoured you at a moment's notice, pulling you in with deceiving memories and false promises, only to demolish them with biting nips and trailing scratches. She tasted of pure possession, each slide of her tongue more demanding than the last.

She wanted control, and you happily gave it over.

Kara pulled back, beginning to plant kisses from your mouth down to your neck. She drew you into her mouth, sucking hard enough to have surely left a mark, and you'd have cared if it weren't for the svelte fingers shamelessly working under your dress, rising to the juncture between your thighs to tease your clothed cunt with light touches.

There was no remorse when your shivers were felt, when your pitiful rendition of a beg was heard or when your hips started to grind down in desperation. The reporter was hell-bent on prolonging the torture.

Hand on the underside of your knee, Kara encouraged you to wrap a leg around her waist. She hauled it up as if it weighed nothing and held it in place, momentarily allowing you to find some needed friction along the column of her toned stomach. It was then you realised why Kara wanted you to have some leverage. Savagely, your underwear was torn, fabric protesting louder than you did in fear you'd anger your tyrant and be deemed unworthy of her illustrious treatment.

"I want them to hear you," Kara drawled, dipping the tip of her finger inside you. "Hear that you belong to me."

Instructions clear, she thrust three fingers into your welcoming pussy and began fucking into you at an unforgiving pace. There were no words to describe the ecstasy that was being stretched so abruptly it almost hurt, so you settled for a silent cry instead, gripping onto muscled shoulders for leverage.

It stung when Kara pushed harder and moved faster, but the tendrils of pleasure did not lessen, circulating through your body and bubbling in your stomach, so you endured.

Your moans were carrying, spilling out of the room to ricochet and bounce around the high-panelled ceiling and walls of the corridor. The occasional gasp that did reach your ears left you desperately wanting to be ashamed, to do the sensible thing and tell Kara to stop. The embarrassment of exiting the cloakroom and coming face-to-face with the many people who knew exactly what had happened was enough for you to listen to your rational mind. But what remained stronger was the need to chase your impending orgasm.

That's what made forgetting so easy—the vehement need for ownership being met, even if it was being done in such a precarious place. It's probably why you didn't stop the following words from coming out of your mouth.

"Yours." You wanted her to know. Hell, you wanted everyone to know. So you kept saying it, over and over, louder and louder. "Yours yours, yours, only yours."

All you could do was continue to pull Kara in, clenching around her fingers, and beg her to go impossibly deeper with the firm grip of your leg and crackling cries. Soon enough, there was no need for Kara to hold you close; you were stuck to her like glue, and the blonde chose to take full advantage.

Her hand lay flat on the wall to gain some leverage, her fingers starting to move so fast they felt like they were vibrating. Soft kisses along your throat became harsh, teeth latching onto skin repeatedly, mercy momentarily shown with soothing slides of a slickened tongue. In the back of your mind, you knew what was happening. The reporter was marking you as hers, and when you left that tiny room, there would be no mistaking it. In the upcoming days, she wanted you to see the bruises staring back at you in the mirror, a warning for you never to forget. Hers.

"Mine," Kara growled, her voice raspy.

Your chest was rising and falling alarmingly, your breath short, and your lungs exerted. Everything was moving so fast you scarcely noticed Kara place her thumb over your clit till it was too late, and all that was left to do was gasp so heavily your lungs felt like they may burst.

With the duel stimulation came the lack of awareness, and it seemed, even for Kara, your volume was rising to a level that would amass too much attention. Her lips found yours, and muffling your cries, she drove her tongue into your mouth.

Her thumb continually ran in circles, each drawing you closer. Your stomach was so tense it felt painful. Still, the persistent waves of satisfaction were worth the strain, and unsurprisingly, in little to no time, you felt the inevitable crest of your orgasm, releasing an open-mouthed gasp against velvet lips.

You came with a silent cry, your head thrown back and slamming against the wall, forcing Kara to separate her lips from yours. She watched you fall apart in awe, milking you for you had till you were shaking so badly you could scarcely hold yourself up.

"Keep holding onto me," she whispered, and you obeyed, wrapping your hands around her neck, breathing heavily and dropping your head to her shoulder. With a delicate kiss on your temple, Kara slowed her fingers down to languish thrusts and placed her hand over your ass, taking the majority of your weight. "I've got you."

Assured there was no chance you would collapse, Kara kept going, continually pulling meek whimpers from you with every curl of her fingers. It felt like your orgasm was never-ending, waves of full-bodied pleasure rippling through your system over and over, burrowing into your skin till it felt like you were on fire. Finally, when a grimace replaced the gratified smile you wore and your moans began to sound more wounded, she stilled, slowly withdrawing from you.

Weakly looking up, you watched Kara bring her fingers into her mouth and sample your unique taste. Her eyes fluttered shut as the familiar tangy nectar coated her tongue, and a satisfied hum vibrated in her throat.

Head falling forward, knees still shaky, mind certain, you whispered the only thing that seemed to be running through your head, "Yours."

Lips to your temple, Kara happily muffled her confirmation, "Mine."

Taglist: @iliketozoneout @homo-oddity @noahrex @lovelyy-moonlight @camciel | Click here to be added to my taglist

#kara danvers #kara danvers x reader #supergirl #supergirl x reader #arrowverse #arrowverse x reader #kara zor el x reader

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bi-badass-geek · 4 months

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Hades 1 vs Hades 2 Designs

● Hermes besides Hypnos was first character that made me think when i saw him oh some time has passed since Zag's escapes indeed, makes you feel that time skip. In this particular debate between those i'm really digging both but if needed to say which i prefer would go with second. I feel it should be said he sure rolls nicely with longer hair i would say darker outfit too but that's probably because pallet that's used for levels.

Ps. I saw post that mentioned how his ring is the same as ones Charon is wearing in first game and if it's a hint at something i'm here for it!

● Zeus for this god specifically there is discourse about how his pose is less dynamic and oh boy if i don't agree with that so much. In first game you see him and his look makes you think yeah this is the king of gods while in second game man is just there with posture i take often because i'm useless gay that don't know what to do with my hands and feels like they took all this might and put it into chiseling his nipples & abs into his golden chestplate. Not to mention the detail of missing the iconic bolt! Don't think it needs to be said but 100% would pick Hades 1 design out of those options.

● Poseidon the King of the Sea another example in my humble opinion where they went with flattening that dynamic looks exchanging it for man that just standing there chilling which is good for him but where first screams cool uncle second one goes uncle that wants retirement. I really like how we can see the trident now tho and need to point out his outfit sure got more print on it. When it comes down to pointing out which one is the winner in my eyes it would be 2020 one.

● Aphrodite if she wasn't the one that got thrown into drama because people double standards and hypocrisy. Design from first game and the pose straight up makes you think of love, lust, seduction all the things that are associated with said goddess. As for Hades 2 version i have no clue why it feels like this considering it's actually the opposite because we can see armor on her legs now but she feels less covered for me, do i find it negative or in any way problematic? Not one bit let the woman show off all her assets all day long! Really love the adds of her weapon and shield makes you immerse in the store of oh fights are happening around these parts. From seduction to i stand here at the ready kinda vibe and i'm really digging it.

Ps. Another post i read was about fact that her war paint i will call it (not 100% sure if that is it or just line for the giggles) is reference to Ares and considering her myth i really like that touch!

● Hypnos was the first OG i saw and was like man not only catching up on his sleep but also got such glow up i absolutely adore the design. Not to say he looked bad in Hades 1 but there it was like okay nice to Hades 2 like Damnnn and his lil helpers that keeps him up! Love the fact that of all things they made him be tucked into his cape like burrito.

Ps. I really do hope by the end of the game we get to wake him up so he can try out that nectar that we all leave there waiting.

● Chaos so many things to say and at the same time silence says it all. Seen people focusing on fact some out there call them he or how it's a downgrade from previous but don't even elaborate why they think that because everyone has right to have their own preference but at least put it into words instead of going trash next..there was also notion how they resemble Meg and while i see where people get that idea from for sure before reading that my mind didn't went there at all. I think both designs really work with someone who is primordial originator and how time goes so can their form. I find it very fascinating that they put old skeleton with new one and adore galaxy under suit makes me think of Nyx right away and how they're connected. Can totally see how between those two gamers got major stance that left reminds them more of male and right of female beings but at the end of the it chaos is chaos. Gotta take chair routine from Meg while they at it! The face on the shoulder surely throws me in loop tho fits? Sure. Does it disturb me in micro scale? Yes. About frames and poses don't have much to say cause both caption the essence of i mind my business everything unrelevant until i say so.

Ps. I know it's about physical aspect but let me say Chaos roasting Mel about how her brother is amusing one out of two Hades spawns is living rent free in my brain.

#Hades 2 #Hades 2 spoilers #games #I know i'm missin Demeter and Artemis but those ladies do be hating me with showing up since i planned to make this post #Funny enough they both don't want to show in Hades 1 now lol #will add them when i finally manage to grab ss of said individuals but in short i like Demeter better in H2 while Artemis works as is #in both games #Hades Zeus #Hades Hypnos #Hades Aphrodite #Hades Chaos #Hades Poseidon #Hades Hermes #while all that is said it's just purely my preference and i think in both games they're looking to use such lame expression good #so i ain't hating on either #I keep dying to sirens so there is probably more i haven't seen so if i catch anythin besides those i will update as it goes #i downloaded Hades again just for that rip my disc aint got any space lmao #feel free to come yell about Hades into my dms i only doin it to void at the moment which is tragic yall

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stxneflxwers · 5 months

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overemotional.

cw. for drinking & inebriation, also nudity (but nothing explicit). literally just drunk, overemotional alhaitham. probably deeply OOC. but god. let me dream. lowercase.

inspired by dialogue prompts!

alhaitham - a man that seldom gets drunk - somehow got roped into drinking a little too much with friends tonight. you know he hangs out with his three other long-time friends on occasion, but he always prefers to be home in the end - next to you.

but...

tonight was exceedingly strange once he dragged an also drunk kaveh into his designated room. you're certain kaveh was already passed out by the time the two of them came home. not that it was too unusual for kaveh to get drunk on a rather regular basis.

the strange part is alhaitham's behavior - it felt like he was avoiding you, even after you started stalking him around the house. you haven't seen him drunk before, so this is an entirely new experience.

you followed him into your shared bedroom, and then you heard - what was it? - sniffling coming from him as he shrugged his cape off onto the floor. and then he collapsed onto the plush bed and tore his boots off. you could now clearly see he was tearing up.

"babe..." you mutter, now hesitant to approach him, "are you...okay? what's wrong?" you ask wearily.

he fails to respond as he begins shedding himself of all of his clothes - every last one. you gasp and cover your eyes to preserve a smidge of his modesty and dignity. even if you have seen him naked in the past - it feels wrong to see him in such a drunken state, let alone naked at the same time.

"why are you taking everything off?!" you squeal in surprise.

"because it's hot." he slurs, "and i'm hot."

you giggle. yes, yes you are, you think. you definitely need to be keeping that thought to yourself for now.

"a-at least put your underwear back on, you dork...!" you bemoan.

he sighs and does so, "there." he sniffles some more, and when you unveil your eyes, you see him curled up in a half-nude ball on the bed.

"okay..." you sigh, walking up to him with cautious, silent steps, "seriously. what's wrong?" you brush your fingers along the bone of his broad shoulder.

"you..."

"me...?"

"you're too beautiful for me." he sobs a little before yanking you down into his arms, leaving you in an awkward position against him.

he really is hot - in more ways than one. he's almost sweating.

"i—" you sputter, unsure of how to respond momentarily, "th-thanks, babe... i think you're beautiful too—" he cries more and squeezes you a little too tightly, "oh, oh no, don't cry!" you grab his face and kiss away every tear that trickles.

"you are...beautiful-er." he slurs sleepily.

"pfff—" you resist breaking out into laughter, you've never heard him sound so inelegant with his words - the scribe, of all people. "no, you. i promise."

"no... you." he protests before throwing you around in his arms to the other side of the bed, causing you to unceremoniously flop next to him.

"okay, okay, you win." you roll your eyes, but your voice is filled with nothing short of adoration, "now... i think it's bedtime for a certain someone—"

and just like that - he's out like a light.

he's such a silly boy, but he's at least your silly boy.

#🌠— my works #idk whether to count this as an actual work or just brainrot. whatever #🌠— fluff #alhaitham x reader #💕— alhaitham #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

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ivystoryweaver · 1 year

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With You part 3

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Summary: Jake Lockley has finally met you. What does he think of you, and will he, or Marc, give you any answers?

Pairings: Marc Spector x reader, Jake Lockley x reader (implied Steven Grant x reader). Gender neutral reader. No use of Y/N. Reader is engaged to Marc and Steven.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings/notables: Angst, comfort, references to drinking and alcoholism but it doesn’t happen here, sex but the language is not explicit and no gender-specific body parts mentioned, nightmare, brief crying, cursing, assumptions, longing, feeling inadequate, Khonshu is mean here yall, somebody hug marc spector. Let me know if I missed a warning. Probably inaccurate DID, based on the show.

Dividers by saradika

PREVIOUSLY, on “With You”...

Jake could live without Marc and Steven knowing about him. He’d lived that way all this time, but you were something else. He hadn’t wanted to meet you like this. He had screwed up, and now you were only worried about Marc. He was worried too, honestly.

Now you would never want to know him.

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” Jake decided, by which he was effectively deciding to do nothing. He may be able to eliminate the vilest creatures under night’s shadow, but trying to explain to you that he was the reason your fiancé obliterated his sobriety...

Jake didn’t fear anything. In fact, as the streets of London descended from depraved men to monstrous supernatural threats, he relished his role as Khonshu’s vengeful fist. Someone had to do it, and Jake was suited to the task.

A creature of the night, he savored the quiet, cool leather interior of his car as much as the dingy London air whipping through his white cape. And the more challenging his vicious foes, the more Jake reveled in it. He protected people. That was his sole purpose.

Including Marc and Steven.

So the fact that he somehow missed Marc tossing back a bottle of whiskey and upsetting you in the process, well - if he couldn’t protect you and his alters, then he had no reason to exist.

So, time for bed. He would fade into darkness and you would get back who you really wanted.

Reaching to scoop up each item of clothing he had discarded, with none of this explained aloud to you, he turned to flee.

“Wait,” you pleaded, blocking his pathway out of the bedroom, your hands reaching out to push back gently against the pile in his arms. His gaze fell on yours - open, yet unreadable. Not menacing, but not to be bothered. His eyes didn’t flicker away like Marc’s. He stared you down, waiting.

“Just wait a second, Jake,” you found yourself whispering, a bit transfixed. “Where do you usually sleep?”

Lips parting in anticipation, your heart did some clichéd somersaulting as he tore his eyes from yours and nodded to your bed.

“You sleep with me?” You clarified, dumbfounded.

Dark eyes flickered momentarily down to your mouth. His tongue swiped over the fullness of his bottom lip before dragging it between his teeth.

“I sleep with you.”

The rich timbre of his voice electrified you.

“Only so you can wake up with them.”

Air rushed out of you in a mildly dramatic exhale. What was this man doing to you?

“Please,” you whispered, unsure of what you were even asking him. Mostly, you didn’t want to be without them. You had waited all night, terrified. “Don’t go. I was so worried.”

Eyes narrowing suspiciously, Jake nodded once. He knew what you needed, and it wasn’t him.

Ten minutes later, after what was, for you, an unbearable silence, Jake climbed into bed with you. Having washed up and making his well-fitting ensemble disappear somehow (where did he keep his clothes?), he decided on Steven’s soft pajamas. The sleeves sagged adorably, covering his hands, but Jake’s fingers didn’t fidget like his alter’s.

How many times had he done this? Pretended to be them? And were you okay with it? Was it even really your business? It was his body too.

The lights remained off from before, allowing you the cover of darkness to ease under the blankets, as if acting in a play.

If Marc were with you, he would pull your back against his chest, folding you close until either your body relaxed, or until his lips breathed salacious words on your ear while his hand slipped between your legs. Either that, or he would bury his face in your tummy, the way he had done that morning. That, too, often ended up with him between your legs.

For Steven, it was the crook of your neck, latched on to you like a koala. After years of sleeping poorly, or trying his damndest to stay awake and not “sleepwalk”, nothing soothed him more than your soft skin and reassuring arms. He marvelously discovered that, with you, he had no trouble falling asleep at all. For Steven, the mornings were when he needed you most. The two of you would race to the bathroom, playfully fighting over who would freshen up first before tumbling back into bed, where he would be sure to end up between your legs.

But here, now, Jake was a statue.

You were Marc and Steven’s whole world. Jake knew he had fucked up enough for one week. There was no way he was moving one millimeter in this bed. Hopefully, the warm surge in this heart would settle to the soothing sound of your breathing. That was his balm - you were his anchor. After the cracking of bones and the wailing of night’s creatures deafening his ears - the gentle rise and fall of your chest in the night was his lullaby.

But he didn’t dare touch you. You weren’t his.

Sometimes you attached yourself to him the night, or maybe he only dreamed that you did. He was never him when sleep ended.

Feeling the tension rolling off you, the urge to somehow alleviate your worries taunted him. But he was certain he didn’t even possess the ability to soothe, only to punish.

So he said nothing. He did nothing. He waited for sleep.

“Jake...” As you turned to him, your sweet voice crawled up his neck, intoxicating him utterly. “Would it be okay if I held your hand?”

The memory of your smooth skin was seared into his memory from the featherlight kiss he’d given your knuckles. He didn’t even hesitate to grasp for you in the dark, tangling his fingers with yours.

Pressing your face to the soft fabric covering his shoulder, you, undeniably realistic you, accepted this real moment. You wanted answers. You wanted a lot of things. He gave you his hand. You took what was here, now.

“I’m glad to know you, Jake,” you whispered, your heavy eyes sliding closed, despite everything. Squeezing his fingers, and swiping your thumb softly along his, you added, “I hope you’ll come back to me soon.”

You woke up to a mess of chocolate curls buried in your stomach.

Marc.

Your sweet, tormented angel.

There was a slight chance it wasn’t Marc, but the familiar whimpers of a nightmare gave him away even more than tummy cuddles.

“Shhh,” you soothed, raking your fingernails through his messy waves. “I’ve got you.”

He squeezed you, murmuring, “No,” brokenly before whimpering again. His nightmares weren’t flailing arms and shouts like in films. They were this: soft, pleading mumbles and anguished pleas.

With a sudden change in his breath, he was awake, eyes darting wildly as he climbed his way up your body, hands checking you frantically.

“Right here, baby,” you murmured, eyes soft and full of love. He looked so broken, you wanted to cry, while desire simultaneously ripped up your spine. Whatever this man of yours needed, you were going to give him, likely, to your great pleasure and benefit. Win-win.

“You’re here,” he repeated, gathering you in his strong arms as the weight of his body crushed you in the most delicious way. “I dreamed you were gone. You left, or...or someone took you away from me.”

“Never,” you uttered with conviction, pressing your lips to the corner of his jaw, opening your mouth to breathe hotly before kissing a trail to his ear. “I’ll never let that happen. I’ll burn down the whole world first.”

A choked sob erupted from his chest as he whispered your name. Fusing his lips with yours, his fingers gripped your jaw desperately as if he feared you would quite literally slip through them.

Responding to the press of his body like a partner in a well-rehearsed dance, your legs fell open, ready to feel the heat of him consuming you. His mouth hadn’t left yours, but his thick fingers dragged (his) t-shirt up your torso and over your head.

Only then, when your lips parted, did his dark, desperate gaze lock onto yours. “Need you,” he groaned, his voice tinged with the slight beg you associated with Steven.

Surging forward, you met his furious kiss with equal hunger, pushing under his soft pajamas, pulling, dragging until your naked limbs were tangled, pressing and pulling in desperate passion.

“You’re mine,” he growled, deep inside you, claiming you, as if you had any doubt or desire to be apart from him. “He can’t h-have you. I won’t let him.”

You were oddly turned on by the idea that maybe he sounded jealous of Jake, who had merely held your hand in the dark.

He didn’t mean Jake.

In fact, he wasn’t even aware you’d held an audience with his mysterious alter.

No, he meant the twisted, deceitful, formidable Egyptian god of the moon, to whom he remained enslaved. The one who took you away in his dream.

The things Marc was doing to your body - you could barely think straight. Your back arched in pleasure, your fingers clawing at the sculpted muscles of his back, desperate to somehow bring him even closer to you.

“I’m yours,” you gasped, realizing with the deep moan that followed, that you didn’t really have control over your voice at this point.

“Mine,” he repeated, as you drowned in him, and he in you.

After a long, hot shower together, filled with salacious kisses and some very naughty handiwork, the two of you finally made it to the kitchen. Just like in bed, you danced around one another with practiced ease, as if perfectly executing the blocking of a play. Your hand reached for the coffee grounds, while he readied the filter. He found the bread while you produced his favorite jam.

Shoulders rubbed and soft smiles were exchanged, eyes longingly dancing, locking and flittering away to the tasks at hand.

“Thank you,” he finally said, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple, “for this morning.”

You almost teased him for thanking you for what you two did quite regularly in bed, but you knew what he meant. Whatever anchor he’d needed this morning, you were it.

Still, you were a cheeky one, as Steven frequently reminded you... “I should be thanking you, baby,” you innocently purred. “That thing you did...when you turned me over, holy shit--”

“Okay, okay,” he laughed out, motioning for you to get back to breakfast, as if he would ever actually order you about. “You and your dirty mind, I swear to god.”

You laughed out delightedly. “That’s rich, Mr. Spector.”

One of his dark eyebrows shot up. “Call me ‘Mr. Spector’ again and I’ll take you right back in there,” he playfully warned.

Tempting.

The toast popped up to interrupt the two of you, giving Marc’s thoughts just enough time to drift back to much more serious matters. He wanted to be with you all day today. He knew Steven had class at uni and you had work - he didn’t care. He needed you to know things.

“Hey, um...” he started, before you could make another quip about Mr. Spector or the bedroom, “I...I meant to tell you...” reaching up to rub the back of his neck, he swallowed nervously. “I--there’s another bottle. In the flat.”

Bracing his hands on the countertop, his head dropped. It was hard to look at you when he thought he might disappoint you. “I wasn’t trying to hide it, I just...that night, I...”

Reaching over, you laid your hand over his, there on the counter’s edge. “Thank you for letting me know. Do you want to tell me where it is?”

His eyes darted over to yours and he swallowed hard. “The low shelf, down by the edge of that old table I haven’t fixed yet.”

Ah yes, the ‘don’t throw it out, I can fix it’ project that was cluttering your living room. Steven collected books; Marc collected abandoned, broken things...

“Hm,” you hummed thoughtfully, “Steven’s reading chair is right there. He’s going to figure this out, you know.”

“I know,” Marc quickly responded. “I think I wanted him to. Or you. I don’t know...” He didn’t wait for any sympathy. There was too much to tell you before he completely train wrecked his entire life.

“Something happened,” he pressed on, determined. Then he told you. Head bowed, hands gripping the counter, he explained.

You remained completely still at first, but you noticed that the more you acted normal, the easier it was for him to talk. So you finished the coffee, slathered the toast with jam, and walked everything to the tiny table at the kitchen’s edge, where the two of you loved to share your favorite meal almost every single day.

He had fronted a few days ago. It was dark, cold. He was outside, in an unlit, ominously quiet alley. He didn’t know where he was. Steven wasn’t there with him. He reached for his phone and shook with horror at the white bandage-looking material wrapped around his hands. Realizing his face was covered with a mask, he started to panic when the fabric quickly receded, leaving him gasping.

His body was covered in Moon Knight’s mummified wrap.

“No, no, no, no,” he cried, forgetting, for a moment, that he could simply will the suit away, and clawing at the material instead.

Then he heard it. Him.

“Marc Spector,” the booming voice of Khonshu splintered through his mind, wracking his body with terror.

“No, NO,” Marc shouted, climbing to his feet and pressing his palms into his forehead. “You’re gone. I don’t belong to you anymore!”

He ran, clinging to control of the body, determined not to allow Khonshu anywhere near Steven. Or you.

The old god’s skeletal form appeared on various rooftops, following and taunting Marc, his voice eerie and all consuming, as if the bird were nearly shouting into his ear.

“Run away if you can. This body doesn’t belong to you,” the voice taunted.

“Leave me alone!” Marc shouted, but it came out as more of a whimper, like trying to scream for help in a dream. “We had a deal!” He halted, banging his fists against his head as if it would make the ancient being simply evaporate.

But the spiteful deity scoffed, turning his bony back as if done with the conversation. Turning his menacing beak back toward the puny one in control of his avatar, he replied, “Lockley is mine, and so are you.”

Then he vanished.

Just the relief of the god disappearing urged Marc’s legs forward, stumbling through angry tears until he reached your home. You were at work. He paced the flat, tugging his hands through his hair, desperate to keep Steven in the dark.

“It can’t be,” he gasped, over and over again, trying to convince himself. “We’re free. We made a deal. We’re free.” This overwhelm would normally bring Steven to the front, but Marc held on, pacing himself to exhaustion. He was asleep on the couch by the time you came home.

You woke up to Steven. And while you worked your next shift, he bought the whiskey.

He waited another day to drink it.

“I thought maybe...I wondered if I had completely lost my mind,” he uttered, finishing his story, now seated at the kitchen table.

Easing off your chair, you knelt in front of your fiancé, setting your palms gently on his thighs.

“Don’t say that.”

“No, I mean really,” he went on, his hands covering your own, grasping at your fingers. “I thought...what if all this time, Khonshu was in my head? Like...part of me.”

“Like another alter?” you questioned, peering up at him.

“Maybe. I started wondering about all of this Moon Knight bullshit--if it even really happened. And, now there’s this Lockley...” Trailing off he sighed, defeated.

Okay, progress was happening. Might as well get it all out in the open.

“I met him, you know,” you carefully admitted, smoothing your thumb over his as you waited for his reaction. “Lockley.”

“Shit,” he rasped, gripping your hands desperately. “He was here, with you? What did he say?”

“Not much,” you admitted. “His name is Jake. Jake Lockley. He was here last night.”

“Here in the flat?”

“Yes. Late last night. He came in through the bedroom window like Spider-Man or something. We talked for a minute, he told me his name and then we went to bed. I didn’t really find out that much about him.”

Releasing your fingers, Marc sat up straight in his kitchen chair, his eyes darkening possessively. “He went to bed with you?”

Hm. You could have worded that better. “Marc, I--”

“Did he touch you?” His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck straining as his dark eyes burned turbulently.

“It wasn’t like that,” you protested, quickly climbing up off the ground to stand in front of him. Caressing his face tenderly, you shook your head. “I wanted to talk to him - to see what the hell is going on. He seemed worried about you drinking.”

“You talked to him about that?” Marc pushed off his chair then, pacing across the kitchen and back. “I haven’t even talked to him yet.”

Fair enough.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, it just came out,” you confessed, giving him a little space, while pushing down your urge to grab him. “Jake was about to leave, and I wanted some answers. I wanted you all here with me. He came home so late, Marc, and your phone was dead. I was so fucking scared...”

Your breath hitched as tears clouded your eyes. “You’ve been so upset, and the drinking... Steven doesn’t have any idea what’s going on and then this Jake uses the damn window in the middle of the night and I thought he was going to leave, and go back out in the night, with no phone. I wanted you here, Marc, so...so I asked him to stay. I asked him if he knew what was going on, or why you had been drinking--”

“Okay, baby, okay,” he conceded, reaching for your shoulders to bring you close. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault.”

The two of you held one another in the middle of your drafty little kitchen, the shared answers between you only raising more questions.

“I think you should talk to Steven,” you suggested gently, “if you feel ready.”

Resting his forehead against yours, he rubbed your back soothingly. “Yeah. And maybe...maybe Jake too.”

tags requested @rivalriotrenegade @wordacadabra

#with you fic #moon knight fic #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fanfic #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #marc spector x you #jake lockley x you #marc spector x gn!reader #jake lockley x gn!reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector #jake lockley #steven grant #moon knight #mcu #oscar isaac fic #read the warnings

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phantoms-lair · 2 months

Note

45 for the crossover roulette.

MarvelxDC

"You okay?"

Peter looked up at the kid wearing a domino mask.

"Okay, kind of dumb question, but can you move? I don't think you want to be there if Klarion's next portal summons a monster."

"Who's Klarion?" Peter asked, confused.

"That," said the boy who on closer inspections was wearing...a really weird outfit and cape with a stylized R on the chest. He was pointing to what looked to be a floating kid in a school uniform with pale, almost blue skin and hair styled into horns. 'Klarion' was laughing as space and time seemed to rend around him.

"Okay, and what does Klarion want?" Peter asked, almost afraid to know.

"Chaos." Cape Boy said grimly. "No other goals. That's why we got you through a portal too, even though you're a hero."

"How do you know I'm a hero?" Not that it didn't feel good to be called that, but Cape Kid (Better, that one had alliteration) seemed to be putting a lot of faith in someone who fell through a random portal.

"You can see through the portals right before something falls out." Cape Kid point to one that now showed a stormy seas. "So we saw you saving that lady before you fell through. Awesome flip by the way. Can you teach me it? My older brother is an acrobat and I'd love to be able to show him up."

"Sorry," Peter apologized. "It's kind of something I can only do because of my mutati-" His Spider sense screamed and on instinct he grabbed Cape Kid and pulled him out of the way of a massive tentacle that slammed out of the sea-scape.

"ROBIN!" a voice called out.

"I'm okay B," Caped Kid, er Robin called out (guess that was what the R was for). "Portal Friend pulled me out of the way."

A man dressed in all in black landed next to them. For all the eared cowl and cape should have looked silly, this man carried it as intimidating. "Thank you. Your name?"

"Spiderman". It was impossible to see through the cowl, but Peter got the sense of an unimpressed eyebrow raised.

"It's no worse that Batman," Robin chided.

"It's not about the name. It's about the fact that he's trying to carry himself as an adult when he's clearly around your age."

What. The. F-.

"What are you talking about?" Peter tried to bluff. Sure he wasn't the tallest. But with the added muscle he looked more like a short adult than a teenager, right?

"You're in High School. Not even a senior." Batman said with absolute certainty.

Maybe he was psychic or something? Peter deflated.

"You're a teenager trying to carry yourself as an adult and you were fighting alone." It sounded like that that bit was what was upsetting him.

"Well, no one else knows I'm a teenager." Peter said nervously. "Most teenagers can't pick up cars." Not could most adults, but that was besides the point. "So any other heroes in NYC think I'm an adult too."

"Hn,"

"B says they're idiots," Robin translated cheerfully.

"Robin," Batman's tone held warning.

"Am I wrong?" Robin asked cheekily

"We need to focus on the matter at hand."

"That means I'm right," Robin stage whispered.

Peter couldn't help himself, he grinned. "So how can I help?"

"If you can keep Klarion distracted, I should be able to help Zatana get into place to stop the portals."

Peter grinned. "Oh don't worry, I can be very distracting."

"That was hilarious," Robin was almost bent in two laughing.

"Thank you, thank you." Peter mock bowed. "Man, Nightwing is going to be sorry he missed this. Oh Man, when you shot that web right in his face, gluing his mouth shut when he was gloating? That was great. Or when your asked what they were feeling him at the Victorian orphanage to turn his skin blue, and implied he just came out because he had the munchies-"

"Have you eaten?" Batman asked, ignoring Robin.

"Sorry?" the question took Peter off guard.

"Your suit was already scuffed when you arrived, so you'd either already been in a fight or at the end of a long patrol. You kept up a lot of high-energy movement and a powers like yours usually come with an increase in caloric needs. Have you eaten?" Batman repeated.

Peter's stomach answered for him with a low rumble.

"Hn."

"Batburger," Robin asked hopefully.

"No."

"...It's because of the fries, isn't it."

"You need to eat healthier."

"It's totally because of the fries." Robin nodded to himself.

"The fries?" Peter asked, confused.

"So this guy go the idea to open up a fast food burger place themed after Gotham's local vigilantes. The food pretty good for what it is, but recently they added a new option to the menu, seasoned fried with a spicy kick. But they called it Jokerizing the fries, and B is upset because he thinks it's trivializing what the Joker's victims go through."

Peter had no idea who the Joker was, but was guessing a villain. "...So would you say B's a little salty about the fries?"

Batman just looked to the smog filled sky, as if asking why all vigilantes acrobats had the same sense of humor.

"Finger's Deli."

"Yeah sure, their sandwiches are good." Robin shrugged. "What's your usual order?"

Oh, he was talking to him. "A cuban with pickles, squished real flat."

"Squished?' Robin asked. wrinkling his nose.

"It makes it crunchier." Peter defended.

"Stay here," Batman ordered, then fired his grapple gun and flew away. Hmm, maybe that was a feature he could add to his web slingers. "So do we know how I'm getting home?" Peter asked tentatively.

"No worries." Robin assured. "Zatana said everything Klarion pulled through will pop back into it's own reality in the next few hours. Yourself included."

"Cool, cool." So that was his big worry down. "Is Batman, like, your Dad or something?"

"He is." Robin confirmed "Not supposed to admit it, but it's kinda obvious. Like everyone assumes it anyways?"

"I can't imagine fighting crime with my un- a relative."

"Problems with your Dad?" Robin guessed.

"Not...really? He died when I was little. I don't even really remember him or Mom." Peter confessed.

Robin winced. "Sorry, I forget how often vigilantes are orphans."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah, a lot of us. Including me and my brother and B."

"Um?"

"Adopted." Oh, that made sense. "Yeah, B keeps adopting kids who remind him of himself and then wonders why we're such drama queens who will go out in costumes to fight crime, including sneaking out if he tries to ban us." Robin laughed. "I can't complain though. Stealing his tires was the best decision I even made."

Peter made a choking noise "What?"

Robin shrugged. "I was young, homeless, and knew I could get top dollar for them. Like enough to keep me fed during winter. He catches me, I hit him with a tire iron because I'm sure I'm either going to juvie or he's going to steal my bones or something, and he just...asks me if I want to eat something. Took me to Batburger."

"Before the fries?"

"Before the fries?" Robin laughed, but it was a melancholy joy. "B's the best thing that ever happened to me. He gave me food and home, and never asked anything in return except for me to live my best life. I decided I wanted to be Robin because...I know what it's like to be that hopeless. And I want to give hope to everyone the way B gave it to me."

"There was a time when I was really afraid we were going to be homeless," Peter admitted. "And I know that's no where as bad as actually being, but..." Where was he going with this? He didn't like thinking of his early days. His disastrous wrestling career that ended in Uncle Ben's Death, trying to go to the Fantastic Four for a job and them telling him he couldn't get paid for being a hero.

Robin snorted. "I was there too, before the actually homeless thing happened. Don't feel like you haven't suffered enough to be at the trauma party because the absolute worst didn't happen. I'm guessing this is better since you have-" he gestured to Spiderman's costume, "-that setup." Pater laughed. "Dude, this outfit is completely scavenged. I sewed it out of old wrestler outfits. Made these," He pulled back his gloves, "out of scavenged metal and my uncles tools. The web fluid...okay I may have 'borrowed' some of what I needed from the high school chemistry department, but I've got a living culture now that just needs upkeep."

"That stuff's alive?" Robin's eyebrows shot up. "Sort of? It's a protean chain, crystalline in shape, but compressed. Once released it decompresses and expands exponentially before drying. Upside it also breaks down on it's own and is environmentally safe." Peter shrugged. "We are doing better though. My Guardian applied for some programs and I got a job. We're doing pretty okay now." Uncle Ben's life insurance had also helped. But there was no way he was counting that. He'd rather be homeless with his Uncle alive.

"I'm glad they applied for those programs. There al a lot of people who are either too proud, or think it's something that will be used against them." Robin said. And there was that melancholy twinge in his tone again. Had his parents refused those same programs before he was orphaned?

"I'm back." Batman interrupted in the same tone he had all night. He had a large plastic bag with him. Had he ordered in costume or changed out and changed back? Was this something he and Robin did often?

He sat down with them, pulled out the sandwich on top and then set it aside. He then pulled out another sandwich and a little side dish cup and handed them to Robin.

"Steamed vegetables?" Robin complained.

"I told you. You need to eat healthier." Batman said simply before handing the remaining bag contents to Peter. Three cubans -squished flat, a fruit cup, mac and cheese, and his own steamed vegetables.

"This is too much," Peter protested.

"It's not, I assure you." Batman paused. "Unless you meant it was too much to eat in one sitting, in which case it hopefully can travel with you when you go back."

"If I have to eat the veggies you do to," said Robin, tearing into his muffuletta.

"You don't even know me..." Peter said, "Why are you being so nice?"

Batman put his pastrami on rye down. He seemed to be cycling through several things to say.

"What does your support look like at home?"

"Like, my legal guardian?" Peter asked, confused.

"Does he know about your alternate identity?"

"She doesn't. She can't. She would blame herself for not figuring it our earlier, and the last thing I want to do is hurt her again. Besides, she's not exactly a fan of Spiderman."

"Friends?"

"Even worse. I had to send my best friend's Dad to jail. He will kill me, maybe literally, if he finds out I'm Spiderman."

"Work friends?" Robin asked, knowing Peter also held a job.

Peter snorted at that. "Don't have any. And even if I did it wouldn't be safe. My boss is the main printer of the articles about how Spiderman's a menace and needs to be hunted down."

Batman was frowning. "Other heroes?"

"Not really close to any. I've done some impromptu team-ups, but I think most of them find me kinda of annoying." Peter admitted.

Batman pinched his nose. "Because they assume you're an adult and picked up on your tones and mannerisms being more like a teenagers and rather than challenge the assumption of your age, decided you were an adult who was immature." he took a deep breath. "Spiderman this kind of life...it isn't one the works if you're by yourself. I was doing this for years before Robin joined me, but back then I had someone behind the scenes, even if he did nothing more than welcome me home at the end of each night. People need support, and that includes you. Whether it's your guardian, a friend of a fellow vigilante, as a human you need someone to lean on. Everyone does."

"And no offense, but it sounds like your civilian life is kind of a toxic echo chamber about your vigilante identity." Robin added. "That can not be good for your psyche."

"It's fine." Peter insisted, stuffing one of the sandwiches in his mouth. Neither Batman or Robin looked like they believed him.

"And maybe they're not wrong. Maybe I am bad at being a hero." Peter said, oddly defensively for someone deriding himself.

"I don't think that's true at all." Batman said gently. "I've barely known you an hour, Spiderman. And in that time you saved an elderly lady from your world, saved Robin, and helped fend off an avatar of Chaos."

"It was a good day." Peter muttered, busying himself with his sandwich.

"I think it's more you're a good person." Batman said kindly.

"Maybe, but that doesn't mean I'm not a screw up."

Batman's smile turned to a frown. "Who told you that?"

Technically lots of people. "Nobody had to."

"I don't believe that." Batman said with full confidence. Which was heartwarming until-

"Was it your Guardian?"

"Aunt May would never!" Peter spat out. "She's kind and so supportive. She's always been there even thought it's my fault-" Peter broke off.

"What's your fault?"

"It's my fault my Uncle's dead." Peter's voice cracked. Robin started to rise to his feet, but Batman stalled him with a raised hand.

"What happened?" Batman asked in his calm and even voice.

"I saw a guy getting robbed and I did nothing. I let it happen. All because the guy who was being robbed was a crook who'd cheated me out of money I'd earned. I thought it was karma. But that thief broke into our house when I wasn't home and he shot him!" Peter felt strangely exposed. He curled in on himself.

"You've never told anyone about this, have you?" Batman said, a statement more than an ask.

Peter shook his head.

Slowly Batman moved to put his hand on his shoulder. "I could tell. Because it seems you've never had anyone tell you it wasn't your fault."

Peter's head shot up. Adrenaline crashed through his body and he wasn't even sure why. "I let the guy go."

"You made a mistake in judgement. But given you had already been cheated by the man being robbed, you also had no way of knowing that first robbery wasn't personal."

"I still should have done something! With great power comes great responsibility." Peter insisted.

"Perhaps. But no amount of responsibility can equate to being omniscient. There was no way you could have foreseen what would happen."

"But....but..."

"Spiderman, when I was just a child myself, there was a movie I wanted to go see. I convinced my parents to take me." Robin moved in, shoulder to shoulder with Batman, reassuring him. "The movie was wonderful, everything I'd hoped. And then on the way home we were mugged. Neither of my parents made it."

Peter's breath caught in his throat.

"I blamed myself for wanting to see the movie and it took a lot of time and a very stubborn old man to help me understand it wasn't my fault. And I'm guessing the only reason no one's told you that is no one know you're blaming yourself. You're not responsible for your Uncle's death any more than I was responsible for my parents. You are a child. You deserve a support system. You deserve people you can open up with all the way. You deserve to not be constantly punishing yourself for giving the wrong person a second chance."

"I know I'm not persuasive enough to make you believe with one talk. And once Klarion's portal reverses I'll not have a chance to talk to you again. So please find someone in your world you can trust. If not your Aunt, another hero. If they're worth the title, they'll help."

"Maybe, I-" Peter cut off as his spider-sense gave a low tingle. "Uhhh, I think something's happening." "You're going back." Batman grabbed the rest of Peter's food and shoved it into his arms. "Tale the food and please talk to someone. You're doing so well and you deserve to have help and support." "I-" Anything Peter was going to say was cut off as Peter suddenly found himself sitting alone on a roof in NYC, the daylight suddenly glaring to eyes that had adjusted to the darkness of Gotham. He was back home. Batman and Robin were gone. He sat down on the roof and almost on auto pilot pulled out one of the sandwiches he was still holding. The paper was oddly deformed, he noticed as he unwrapped it. Almost like it had been-

Batman had squished his sandwiches after buying them. Because the deli hadn't and he'd wanted Peter to have the sandwich he wanted. It was such an Uncle Ben thing to do.

Maybe Batman was that world's Uncle Ben. Maybe Robin was that world's version of him. It was nice to think of that. That somewhere in the multiverse there was a world where he and Ben were in this together. Batman had said there was someone waited for him at home. That world's Aunt May?

He'd said he needed help, that he was allowed to ask for help. And Uncle Ben had never been wrong before.

Captain America let out a breath as the last of the Doombots fell. This had been a big one. An all hands on deck, fate-of-NYC. And God above it felt like this was becoming a monthly event. He was looking forward to heading home and taking a good long shower when Spiderman landed next to him.

"Hey Cap, can talk to you? For just a minute?"

As much as he wanted that shower, it was rare to see the cocky and wisecracking Webhead sound insecure. "Certainly. Shall I assume this requires more privacy that an open street?"

"Yeah, that would be good." Spiderman nodded enthusiastically. "We could go to a roof-no you don't have webslingers. That's rude."

Now Cap was getting concerned. Spiderman was acting...very not himself. He lead Spiderman away from the battle to a series of alleys he knew very well. If this was an imposter, he wasn't letting him pick the secondary location and made sure he had an advantage in terrain. Spiderman couldn't get full momentum of his swings here, but he himself could ricochet his shield into a near barrier. "Well?"

"Sorry," Spiderman said after a moment. "I'm trying really hard not to talk myself out of this for a third time."

The third time? Interesting.

He took a deep breath. "My name is Peter. I'm 16 years old. I'm barely keeping my head above water and I need help."

#Ghost Writing #Spiderman #Batman #Peter went to Cap because Cap has a similar rep to Superman #But I think Cap's going to hook him up with the Defenders #Since they're more familiar with some of his struggles #Not that Cap won't still be there when he needs support Like telling Aunt May #Went with Jason-Robin because I needed to Dadliest version of Bruce #Note Robin refered to Peter's Guardian as they because he didn't know the gender #Batman used he to see if Peter would agree or correct him and thus gain more information

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